Beyond Arcadia
by KaiserBeefStew
Summary: The story follows Alistair, a novice mage, and Atalanta as they compete in the Moon Cell's Grand Holy Grail War; a new type of Grail War held in an alternate version of the Fate/Extra universe. They struggle to see their wishes made reality, as they unravel the nature of the conflict they have been thrust into, and do all they can to understand and work with one another.


**Beyond Arcadia**

Chapter I:

He awoke beneath the blue sky, amid a field of grass and flowers. Odd as this situation was, his seemingly inexplicable placement was not what bothered him. It was something to do with the world itself. The sky was a shade too blue, the grass too green, and too flowers too vivid. It was something faint. Something you wouldn't notice if you weren't looking very closely.

His senses were dulled, as one is coming out of a deep sleep. As the world around him came into clearer focus, he began to notice more oddities. Large crystalline structures littered the field. The air was crisp and cool. Everything felt somehow light. This place seemed somehow familiar to him. Not like somewhere he had heard of from someone else, but like somewhere he had been before. Yet he was certain he had never once visited this place. Surely he would remember somewhere as picturesque and uncanny as this. But, somehow, the feeling remained.

Alistair, the young man in question, sat upright, questioning the nature of his current predicament. Last he remembered, he had gone to bed in his house, same as he ever had, after a typical, uneventful day. His first thought was that he had died, and that this was Heaven, or something similar. For someone so young to die in their sleep would have been incredibly unlikely, though not impossible, he reckoned. Regardless, that idea still didn't seem right.

As the fog cleared from his mind, he stood up, though with some difficulty, and began to walk forward in hopes of finding some explanation as to what exactly had landed him in this situation. After a few moments walking through the plain that seemed to extend on far beyond the horizon, a woman suddenly appeared before him. She was fair-skinned, with long, flowing bleach-blonde hair, and deep crimson eyes. She wore a long white dress and a large headdress resembling a crown. Much like the world around her, her beauty was somewhat unnatural. As Alistair started to greet her and ask the myriad of questions buzzing in his mind, she spoke.

With a voice that was both gentle, yet commanding, she said, "Greetings Alistair Kokinos." Taken back, he inquired, "How do you know my name? Who are you, and where are we, a-and-" She cut him off; "I apologize for all of this. I'm sure it must be quite unsettling. Allow me to start from the beginning." With a relaxed expression, she gestured toward their general surroundings. "This is a simulation of Heaven's Feel, the innermost layer of the Great Holy Grail, created within Seraph, the internal structure of the Moon Cell. I am a replica of the Holy Grail and its will. I am currently acting as an ambassador of the Moon Cell itself." "So the Moon Cell is real…" he thought aloud. In his studies as a mage he had heard rumors and theories regarding its existence, though he had never expected it to be real, let alone that he would visit it.

"But wait," he interjected, "what's going on? Why am I here?" "You have been chosen by the Moon Cell to be a participant in a new kind of Holy Grail War. As you currently are, you exist as a copy of the human, Alistair, superimposed over a cyber frame. This is meant to enable you to compete on an even level with the other masters." This explained why he had no memory of how he had gotten there. It occurred to him that, being a copy, the human Alistair likely still existed back on Earth, going about his usual life with no idea of what had transpired.

Alistair was familiar with the nature of Holy Grail Wars; the ritual in which seven masters summon seven heroic spirits, or servants, to battle each other until one survives. The winner would then ideally have their wish granted by the Holy Grail. Alistair was then struck by another question. "What do you mean by 'a new kind of Holy Grail War?'"

"Yes, rather than a conflict between seven masters, this shall be one of a much larger scale. Hundreds of mages such as yourself have been chosen from around the world. You shall all be released into a simulated space created by the Moon Cell, with the goal of reaching the center. The first masters who manage to achieve this task shall have their wishes granted in accordance with the rules of any grail war. Your actions once beginning will be entirely unregulated. Masters will fight one another, and servants without masters will be free to roam the area and engage masters in combat at their own discretion. This shall be as Seraph's Grand Holy Grail."

"But why is this happening?" he asked. She responded in turn, "I myself am not privy to the Moon Cell's reasoning for enacting this ritual. All I know is that the Moon Cell always acts in order to preserve humanity, out of an inane interest and love for humans." Difficult as all of this was to believe, Alistair chose to trust this woman. Yet still he had more questions.

"Then why was I chosen? What could I possibly have to contribute?" Indeed, Alistair was little more than a novice mage. His family had immigrated to the United States long before he was born, and while they upheld their lineage as a mage family, they were never taken seriously by any major magical organizations. His parents, however, showed a renewed zeal toward the practice, and chose to explore the world studying magic wherever they could. Though Alistair went with them, he was as busy trying to get an education as he was studying sorcery. To him, it was more of a hobby than anything else. As such, despite his interest in magecraft, he had very little formal training and few skills. Moreover, he could think of no wish which he could offer to the Holy Grail. He was aware of its limitations, so he had no desire to wish for something world changing. He had little interest in other humans, and possessed very few passions, none of which would have been worthy of the tremendous magic of the grail. Despite his interest in magecraft, he had no desire to uncover the Root, believing that some mysteries were better left unsolved. While not quite a misanthrope, he possessed very little love for or faith in his fellow man. He had conceded himself to living a modest, normal life. He never really saw himself as someone who would go out and change the world. More than than that, he wasn't exactly self-confident. More self-loathing. Though he imagined this had more to do with being young and uncertain more than anything else. Regardless, he saw himself as a timid, half-baked mage. So why was he chosen to fight in this Grand Holy Grail War?

The woman answered plainly; "You were deemed highly compatible. Truth be told, this war has been raging for a number of years. Many masters have entered. Only a handful of them managed to make it close to the end, but none have managed to reach the grail. For that reason, new masters are being summoned to Seraph. Regardless of your background, you would make a worthy master, and were thereby selected to participate in this battle." He considered her response; "No offense, but I find that somewhat hard to believe. And what's more, I don't know the first thing about summoning a servant, or being a master."

"You are offered a choice. As a copy produced by the Moon Cell, your existence here is fixed. You may thereby make the following decision; Should you chose not to participate in this grail war, you are invited to live as a citizen of Seraph. You will be promised protection, and may exist among the many NPC's created by the Moon Cell. Your other option is to fight in this war. You stand the risk of dying, but should you succeed, you may have your wish granted. Moreover, should you chose to participate, you will be granted an amount of relevant knowledge regarding the summoning of servants, as well as a number of code-casts with which you may assist them and yourself. I should add that should your servant be killed, you too shall die here in Seraph. That being said, your earthly body and soul would be unharmed, even in the event of your defeat." Her words became more gentle; "I understand that this may be a difficult decision for you to make. Please, take your time and think it over."

Alistair folded his arms and looked to the ground, deep in thought. This was a lot to swallow. Never before had he been presented with such a monumental decision. Indeed, he possessed no real wish for the grail. So why should he fight? It occurred to him that, were he successful in fighting and winning in the war, he would be doing so at the cost of the wishes of countless other masters. As far as he could discern, he had no real reason to fight. And yet, he had a feeling. A feeling that this was something he had to do. Maybe he would find a wish. Maybe he could find some sort of higher purpose. Maybe he wasn't destined for that mundane life he had always envisioned. And after all, what did he have to lose? He was just a copy. If he died here, he would simply return to his normal body, and this would be little more than some passing dream. Hell, as far as he was concerned, this may have as well been some elaborate dream. Amid his characteristic doubt, he felt a resolve developing.

After minutes of silence, pacing, and musing, he turned to the woman. "Despite my better judgement, I've decided to fight. I want to be a master." She smiled. "Excellent! If you step through this door, you will find a summoning circle, and be provided with the skills required to participate. Good luck!"

She stepped to her right, revealing a white door, seemingly not connected to any room. Alistair stepped forward. He let out a nervous sigh. The woman smiled a reassuring smile. "I'm confident you will do well!" she said. Somewhat convinced by her kind words, Alistair returned her smile, albeit half-heartedly, thanked her, and briskly opened the door, crossing the threshold into the unknown.

He was met by a bright light. As his eyes adjusted, he found himself standing in a forested area. Before him, a small, clear stream meandered around a clearing. Amid this clearing, a summoning circle sat, painted onto the ground, illuminated by the sunlight that broke through the treeline. As was promised, when he thought of it, he could recall the summoning ritual as though he had known it for some time.

He trepidatiously approached the small island. As he did so, he caught a glance of his reflection in the gently running water. He was wearing a white jacket, with dark pants and shoes. His brown hair appeared messy, and he noticed that he looked tired. Taking note of this, he tried to collect himself. After all, he knew what his commitment to this war meant, and he knew that he had nothing to lose. Why, then, was he so anxious? Perhaps he was worried about meeting his servant. Would they trust him? Would they be able to work together? Still, thinking about these things wouldn't help anything, he reasoned. All he could do now was forge onward.

He stepped up to the circle and held out his left hand. Collecting his thoughts, he spoke; "Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate."

The circle glowed brightly, and a small spiral of wind picked up around its outside. Red command spells burned themselves onto the back of his outstretched hand. They appeared as two acute angles facing outward, toward his thumb and wrist, and a third, larger, angle pointing away from him, divided down the center by a single line.

"I announce. Yourself is under me, my fate is in your sword. In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer. Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead. You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"

With this, a bright light shone from atop the circle. Magical energy roared forth, and the air shook. At the end of this spectacular display, the bright light dispersed, and a single servant stood amid the spent summoning circle.

She stood strait and dignified. Her blonde hair flowed behind her, reaching down to her hips. Her forehead was covered by messy green bangs. She wore a green dress with a pattern printed onto the front, with a matching black skirt. Her black boots blended into her leggings which reached up to her thighs. Her hands were covered by mismatched black plated gloves. She held a large black bow with an intricate pattern carved into it. Atop her head sat two large cat ears, and behind her, a matching tail moved methodically from one side to the other.

She opened her piercing, bright green eyes and stared Alistair. In a confident and commanding manner, she spoke, "I ask you; are thou worthy of being my master?"

In awe of the display he had just witnessed, as well as the beauty of the woman who now stood before him, Alistair responded, "I… suppose we will find out." Unimpressed, or perhaps confused by his response, she said nothing. After a few moments of awkward silence, he again spoke, "So… I take it you're an archer?" "Yes; servant class, Archer. True name, Atalanta. And you are?" "Alistair Kokinos." She replied, "If it's all the same, I shall primarily refer to you as master moving forward." "It's no problem. Are you aware of the nature of this grail war?" "Indeed. This is as much a race as it is a war, yes? If that is the case, I am confident that we shall be successful. I'm quite experienced with foot-races, and I am one of the fastest servants you'll find. I expect you to do your best to keep up."

"Of course," Alistair replied. "Though I imagine my fastest won't be close to comparing with that of a servant. What's more, I'll be frank with you; I'm not a very experienced mage. I've been provided with a number of code casts I can use for back-up, but I'm far from perfect. That being said, I'll do my best to help you out so we can reach the grail." Somewhat put off by this, she answered, "I see, why exactly, then, would you risk your life in this contest? Why do you seek the grail?" "Honestly, I'm not sure."

She closed her eyes in frustration and placed her hand on her hip. "Unbelievable," she sighed, "I've been summoned by an inexperienced master with no drive." "Look," he replied, "I know it probably seems silly, but this just feels like… something I need to do. So don't worry. I know the risks, and I'm committed to this fully. I might not be an expert, but I promise you can count on me."

Sensing his resolve, she sighed. "Very well," she spoke, "so long as you're willing to see this through, I shall fight at your side." Alistair smiled. "Great," he said, extending his hand. "I look forward to working with you." After a moment's hesitation at his unusual gesture, Atalanta returned his handshake.

Releasing his hand, she spoke, "If there's nothing else, we should be going. The grail is located in the center of a large city far to the north. We have a long journey ahead of us and little time to waste." "Alright," he said resolutely. With that, they began making their way north, out of the forest. Alistair had little idea what to expect going forward, yet, despite his nervousness, he felt a sense of confidence that was difficult to describe.

Chapter II:

They progressed for a couple of days, unmolested save for a couple of minor skirmishes with unusually aggressive wildlife. In between trekking through the dense woodlands, the two briefly found respite in a place called simply "My Room." This space was accessible only by one pair of master and servant, and seemed spatially disconnected from the rest of Seraph. It resembled a modest apartment, with austere furnishings. It was composed of a bedroom, bathroom, small living area, and a smaller kitchen, all most likely for the comfort of whichever master inhabited it. The sole luxury was the grand view of a large city which was visible from the main living area. This was most certainly their destination, and likely was meant to serve as a motivational reminder for all the participants of the war.

Archer seemed generally uncomfortable in their quarters for the brief amount of time they spent there. Alistair was unsure if this was out of a dislike toward him, or simply her overt desire to forge onward. He hoped it was the latter, but he thought it would be tactless to ask. For this reason, they spent most of their time moving northwards toward their far off goal of reaching the Moon Cell core.

On the third day, they came upon a small town. This represented the first landmark of their journey. Alistair saw fit to investigate the town and Archer agreed, however she opted to navigate the town by rooftop soas to avoid being noticed, and so that she could scope out any immediate threats.

As Alistair explored the town, he was surprised to find it bustling with life. Markets were loud and chaotic, while small shops and eateries dotted the street corners. There were even a number of suburbs surrounding the town. Alistair assumed that most, if not all, of the town's residents were NPC's, so he found it odd that such a lively town would be made within Seraph, let alone that it would be situated so far from the center. More odd was the architecture of the town. The buildings were a mixture of far east Asian and western European designs, thrown together in a haphazard manner with seemingly no deliberate placement. Perhaps this was the Moon Cell's attempt to capture the best of various cultures from around the world, Alistair thought to himself. But as it was, this mixture seemed to lack structure or intentionality.

Intent to discover more than the unclear aesthetic of the town, Alistair ducked into what he deemed to be one of the more busy restaurants in the central market. He seated himself at the bar and ordered an exciting glass of water. He eavesdropped on some of the people around him, hoping to pick up any information about the state of Seraph, or the war. To his dissatisfaction, he failed to gleam any helpful information from their conversations. People discussed business, trade, and exchanged idle gossip, but nothing of note.

As he was about to leave, a cheerful seeming young woman sat herself next to him and briskly struck up a conversation. "Hey, you look like you've been traveling!" she beamed. Surprised by her forwardness, Alistair replied, "What gave it away?" "You just seem like someone with somewhere to be, that's all," she said. She wore a simple tank top and shorts, with reddish blonde hair and eyes so light they looked silver. "My name's Annabelle Huntington, but you can just call me Anna!" she announced. "What's your name?" "Alistair," he said plainly. Despite her chipper attitude, something about this girl was unsettling to Alistair.

"So, where're you headed, Alistair?" she asked. Going with his intuition, Alistair opted not to trust her. "Oh, just going around to see the world. Might head North, or West. I haven't really decided." "Oh, come on, you must have some idea," she insisted. Telling his poker-face was breaking down, Alistair tried to find an out. "Well, you know how it is. There's a lot out there to see out there." He could tell he was looking like an idiot. He glanced frantically at the clock that hung overhead.

Alistair quickly stood up. "I hate to run off when we've just started talking, but I actually have to meet with someone soon. It was nice meeting you though," he bluffed. "Likewise," she responded. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll run into each other sooner or later!" she said with a smile. "Yeah, have a good one!" Alistair spoke hurriedly and made his way to the exit. Her eyes followed him to the door.

As he stepped into the sunlight of the market, Alistair heard a voice call out to him. "Haven't seen you around here." Alistair turned to look at the speaker. He was a tall man with a long black coat, glasses, and dark hair. "Yeah, just passing through," Alistair replied. The man looked him over, sending chills up Alistair's spine. At a second glance, Alistair thought he recognized the man, but he couldn't place him. "Do I know you from somewhere?" Alistair asked innocently. "Probably not." There was a pause. Again, the stranger spoke, "If you're heading north, take my advice. Go back where you came from. You won't get very far." With that, the deep voiced figure turned and disappeared into the crowd before Alistair could reply. "What the hell?" he thought aloud.

As Alistair left the town, Archer leapt next to him on the road. "Did you find anything interesting?" she asked. "Not really. Sorry. But I ran into some strange people," he said. "We should be careful moving forward." She scoffed. "Very well. Try not to endanger us, master." "Heheh, you know me," Alistair responded. "That's why I'm concerned," Archer replied emphatically.

Chapter III:

Beyond the town sat more dense forest. The leaves of the trees shook in the evening wind. The air had a chill to it as the two continued down their path. "The next time we go into town, I'm going to stick with you," Archer declared. "Alright, but why?" "In the mere hour you spent in town, you managed to get yourself noticed. Going forward, I'm going to come along to keep you out of trouble," she said. "Hey, I didn't do anything to draw attention to myself," Alistair replied. "I don't mind you coming with me or anything, but don't you think people might notice your… uh?" She looked puzzled, and mildly put off. "My what?" she asked. Her ears twitched.

"Wha?!" Alistair shouted as she pushed him backward without warning. She leapt back and as she did, a spear struck down the tree that had been to their left with a thunderous crack. She landed, quickly summoning her bow and firing a shot to their right. With a loud clang it hit its mark. Their assailant jumped down from the treeline with an arrow lodged in his large shield.

He was a massive man, standing at what looked to be nearly seven feet in height. He was built of pure muscle, and he donned shining bronze armor. He held a large lance in one hand, with an equally impressive shield in the other. His eyes shone from his helmet, and he appeared as though he was almost engulfed in flames. In a hardy voice, he spoke, "My apologies. My master is a fan of more underhanded tactics. I can't help but imagine they'd be better off with an assassin. I normally wouldn't go for an ambush."

Archer donned a smirk, as though she'd been eager to get into a fight. "No need to apologize," she said. "This is a war, after all. One should use whatever means they have at their disposal to win, Lancer." "Oh, do you not see the battlefield as a place for honor and glory?!" Lancer asked. Archer fired three arrows, two striking his shield, and one hitting the tree behind him. "No," she said calmly. "In my experience, those who care too much about honor find themselves betrayed."

"How unfortunate. It seems yours isn't the heart of a warrior," Lancer declared. With that Lancer quickly lunged forward, thrusting his spear at Archer. She feigned to the left, shouting, "Master, get back!" Lancer shifted his weight and bashed her with the face of his shield. She blocked the hit with her bow, but was sent backward into the trunk of a tree. Alistair took heed and ran back to a nearby clearing.

Archer grabbed onto the trunk of the tree behind her, before leaping up to a high branch. Lancer jumped into the air, taking a horizontal swipe at her, however she swiftly leapt to another nearby branch, firing a number of arrows at Lancer. Several hit his shield, while one managed to pierce his shoulder. He was unfazed, however, and continued his assault. This process of attacking and counter attacking continued for across the tops of several trees.

Growing tired of this game of cat and mouse, Lancer redirected his attacks toward the trees themselves, knocking several down with one swipe of his spear. Archer responded by darting toward the ground, leaping into the center of a clearing amid the battleground. Lancer lunged at her, striking the ground where she stood, as she again leapt back. "There!" she shouted, shooting an arrow skywards. It cut a rope, snapping off branches of four nearby trees, launching them at Lancer. In the branches, were a number of arrows which had struck them in the course of the battle. They crashed around him, exploding when the hit the ground. "I wouldn't be much of a hunter if I couldn't lay a trap," she boasted.

"Impressive!" Lancer shouted as the dust cleared. He stood amid the rubble with an array of magically reinforced shields in front and around him. "Is that your noble phantasm?" Archer asked. "Indeed!" Lancer roared, "Do you think your arrows can pierce this wall?!" Archer scoffed, taking a knee. She fired a single, reinforced arrow directly at Lancer. It hit his shields, exploding upon contact, throwing up a great volume of smoke and dust.

Several more arrows slammed into Lancer's defences. Multiple hit the ground to his right. At the same time, under the cover of the smoke, Archer launched herself forward, breaking through the cloud from Lancer's left side. Before he had time to properly react, she landed on the ground behind him, rolling and firing five shots into his back, with one hitting the back of his head.

His helmet split, and lancer fell to the ground, his noble phantasm fading away. His long red hair fell free, and he looked up, looking to his defeater. "When one lacks strength, they must be cunning," Archer said, "and all the strength in the world is useless without a little wit." Lancer smiled. "Hahaha! Indeed, it seems I've been outclassed. You said there is no place for honor on the battlefield, but you fought valiantly!" he said. "Do me one favor, if you will. Who is the warrior that felled me this day?"

"Yes, of course. I am Atalanta. It was a pleasure to fight you," Archer said in a dignified manner. "Ah yes, the chaste huntress!" Lancer said. "I have heard many tales of your exploits. If only I had been born a little earlier, then I, Leonidas, may have been able to fight by your side." Archer smiled at him. "Yes, perhaps…" she said. Lancer closed his eyes and spoke as he faded away. "But… I have no regrets, from neither then, nor now. Thank you, fair huntress…"

With those words, he disappeared. Archer stood up, after kneeling at his side. "Master," she said. Alistair had been watching intently, and was thrown off by her sudden calling out to him. "Don't move!" she yelled, spinning around and firing an arrow that flew directly past Alistair's head. A knife clattered to the ground. Alistair quickly turned around and leapt back. Before him stood a blonde girl with silver eyes, with an arrow lodged in her right shoulder.

"You bitch! I'll-" with a thud, an arrow shot through her forehead, and Anna dropped to the ground, dead. Archer merely scoffed. Meanwhile, the gravity of what had just transpired in the last couple of seconds hit Alistair, leaving him quite shaken. "I-I… th-thank you… Archer," he spoke. "You need to be more cautious!" Archer scolded. "We must speak, but not here. This commotion is likely to draw attention." Alistair nodded, and followed her forward.

The day soon turned to night. After walking for a few miles, the two used a code cast to head to My Room. "You not only managed to attract the attention of several enemies, but your lack of concentration on the battlefield nearly got you killed!" Archer did not hesitate to lay into her master. "I'm sorry. Really. I swear I didn't do anything to attract attention to myself in town. But as for after, you're right. I was so focused on your battle that I was caught off guard. I'll do my best to be more attentive going forward."

After a moment, Alistair continued, "Still, thanks again for saving me… and, I'm sure it doesn't mean much coming from me, but I think you were fantastic out there today. Great work." Archer folded her arms, "Thank you… master." She seemed to collect herself. "Now then, it's getting late. You should rest for the time being. We still have a long way to go, but as long as we are on the same page going forward, we should be fine."

"Yeah," Alistair replied, "good night, Archer." Alistair felt embarrassed after the day, but he resolved that he would do better. He refused be a burden after that point.

Chapter IV

The two continued their trek toward the center of the Moon Cell. They were surprised by the overall lack of other masters and servants they encountered. It seemed as though most had either given up their quest to claim the holy grail, or had instead opted to redirect their efforts toward attacking other masters for sport. It was unclear why this was the case, but it meant they did not need to hurry as much as they had initially thought. Knowing this, however, did little to dampen Archer's sense of urgency.

Gradually, the trees opened up, and the land became more mountainous. After another day worth of walking, the duo came upon another town, slightly larger than the last one. After his last experience, Alistair had given up on attempting to gleam intel from the townsfolk, but he still relished the opportunity to experience civilization, if only for a short while. True to her word, Archer insisted on accompanying him into town.

For her efforts to blend in, she put on civilian clothing. She wore a plaid flannel shirt, with a dark short-skirt and leggings. She donned black laced boots and suspenders which hung off to the sides. They weren't helping anyone, but they did tie the look together. Archer seemed proud of her disguise. While Alistair appreciated her sense of fashion, he didn't have the heart to tell her that her outfit did little to cover up her ears and tail. He figured he'd just let her enjoy the moment.

Alistair's primary motivation for heading into town, aside from getting out of the wilderness for a moment, was to gather supplies. They had run low on food stocks in My Room, and he was glad to have Archer accompany him. She had rather austere tastes in food, having grown up in the wilds, and he hoped to find something they could both enjoy.

Their shopping almost went off without a hitch, when they heard a loud, upbeat voice call out to them. "Heeeeeeey! You must be another master!" They both turned, looking in shock and disbelief at the young man approaching them. He was blonde and bright-eyed, and couldn't have been older than a teenager. By his side stood a tall olive skinned man in a grey hoodie, most likely his servant. Alistair turned to Archer and said, under his breath, "What was it you were saying about not attracting attention- ack!" She lightly stomped on his foot.

"I thought we were never gonna run into another master! I'm Percival Wiesmann, and this is my servant, Arash!" the boy chimed. "Uhh, master, you're not supposed to tell other masters my True Name…" Arash asserted, looking defeated. "Oh yeah, hehe, my bad!" Percival replied, looking flustered. He continued, "So what's your name?" Shocked by the series of events that had just unfolded, Alistair responded, "Uhh… I'm Alistair."

Atalanta spoke up, "Forgive me for being rude, but what is it you want?" "Well," Percival spoke, "we haven't run into any other masters so far. You are a master and servant pair, yeah?" The two nodded. "Great!" he continued "and are you too still after the grail?" "Well… yes," Alistair replied. "Then we've gotta fight!" Percival shouted, drawing strange looks from some of the people around. "Umm, I guess so," Alistair responded, "though I'd rather not if it can be avoided." "Well, we're after the grail too, so that means we have to fight each other! So come on! What're we waiting for?!" The boy's enthusiasm seemed unending.

Alistair looked uncomfortable, Arash embarrassed, and Atalanta still looked on in utter disbelief. After an awkward moment's silence, Arash spoke up, "Master, we can't fight here! There are too many civilians around." Percival looked around, as though he was somehow unaware of this fact. "Oooh yeah… I forgot, hehehe," he said, blushing. Arash sighed, then redirected his gaze toward Alistair and Atalanta. "I'm sorry about all this," he said. "If we're going to fight, why don't we all head up to that mountain?" Arash asked, pointing to a plateau just outside of town. Alistair replied, "Sure, that works with me. And you, Archer?" He looked to Atalanta. She blinked several times, shaking her head before replying, "Y-yes. That would be fine." After that, the four headed out of town, making their way to the battlefield.

The walked along the path without speaking for most of the way. Percival merrily hummed to himself. Feeling genuinely concerned for the young man, Alistair finally spoke up. "Hey, kid, are you really sure about this?" he asked. "Yeah, of course! You want the grail, and I need it if I want to make my wish come true, so we have to fight for it. Isn't that how this whole thing works?" Alistair replied earnestly, "Well, yes. It's just people aren't usually so… up front about all of this, you know?" "Oh yeah, secrecy and all that. I've always hated that. All the cloak and dagger stuff. And the lying and sneaking around. It's just not my style." Alistair considered his response. "That's all well, but this is life and death we're talking about here. Can you really afford to be so reckless?"

Percival turned to face Alistair. "Of course! I know all that! And I've got no problem risking my life. I have to in order to save the world!" Alistair was caught off-guard by this. "What're you talking about?" "My wish!" Percival responded. "I want to use the grail to give working magical circuits to everyone. That way, everyone would finally be equal. Then people could finally work together and build a perfect world!" Alistair and Atalanta were both shocked by this declaration. He spoke up, "That's insane! People wouldn't know how to handle it! People would abuse their new powers, and there'd be chaos!" Percival answered this challenge; "That's just what you think! You need to have more faith in humanity. Sure, it'd be rough for a while, but eventually, everyone could finally realize that they are all the same. They could use magic to stop war, cure diseases, save on resources. The possibilities are limitless!" "You're wrong," Alistair said, "that's just not how people are. Trust me."

At that moment, the group arrived at their destination. "Whatever," Percival said. "I just have to beat you, and then I'm one step closer to fulfilling my dream! Are you ready, Archer?" he asked. Arash stepped forward. In a flash, he changed into his armor; a combination of green and red garments and plating. In his right hand, he gripped a large, red bow. "Yes, master!" In response, Atalanta changed into her gear, and drew her bow. She spoke; "Master, I take it you can handle the boy?" Alistair responded, "Yeah, I've got this." He summoned a single pistol, which he had been crafting in between the time they spent moving from place to place, which was built to fire both Gandr shots and magic negating bullets. Percival summoned three golems, made in the image of wolves. The stage was set.

Both archers fired simultaneously, their arrows clashing midair. The first of the golems lunged at Alistair. He feigned to the left, firing three shots at Percival. The boy managed to dodge the first two, but the third hit his leg. Alistair lunged forward to close the distance, taking several more shots at the boy and his golems. The second charged at Alistair, managing to bite down on his right leg. He grunted in pain before sticking the barrel of the gun on the golem's head, firing a shot which killed it instantly. He scoffed, "These things could use some more work!" "Damn it!" Percival shouted, stepping back and sicking the remaining two golems on Alistair.

Meanwhile, the fight between the two archers raged on. Both shot a flurry of arrows at the other. Some shots collided, while others missed, but neither had managed to land a blow on the other. Atalanta darted from side to side, and into the air, attempting to get an angle on Arash. Both were on even ground in terms of marksmanship, but she held a distinct advantage with regard to speed. Arash was on the defensive, trying to counter her many shots, as she worked to close the distance between them.

As one golem launched itself from behind Alistair, the other jumped toward his frontside. Alistair thrust himself onto the ground, rolling to his left side, causing the golems to crash into one another. "Shit!" Percival yelled, unable to swiftly raise them after their impact. Alistair seized the moment, jumping to his feet and sprinting toward his opponent. He stopped just short of Percival, who seemed to seize up in the heat of the moment. Alistair thrust the muzzle of the gun into Percival's chest, firing two quick shots. The boy looked to Alistair, shocked, as a trickle of blood ran from his mouth.

Percival fell to the ground, and Alistair knelt beside him. "Damn it…" Percival spoke, "I… only wanted to make the world a better place…" Alistair looked to him sadly, "I know. Even if I don't agree with you, your heart is in the right place. I'm… sorry. For taking that from you." The boy smiled back at him. "It's okay. You know… I had a lot of fun. Though I guess I have a lot to work on as a mage." "No, you did fine…" Alistair replied, "Now, why don't you go try to make the world a better place with your own hands. I'm sure you'll do alright." The boy smiled again, as his cyber frame began to disintegrate. "Yeah, I think I'll do that. Thanks… Alistair…" with those words, Percival was gone. Alistair took a breath to compose himself, and stood up to check on Archer.

As Atalanta and Arash fought, she gradually managed to lessen the gap between them. He worked his way back, but for every inch he moved, she moved two. Confident she was close enough, Atalanta leapt to her left. Arash fired to where she should land, but she dug her heels into the ground to stop herself short. As the arrow flew by within an inch of her, she threw her weight back. "There!" She delivered a heavy kick into Arash's stomach, launching him backward. She caught her footing, and swiftly fired two arrows at him. Before he could react, they hit him, exploding on contact. He landed on his back, charred from the blast.

Arash, defeated, simply laughed whimsically; "Hahahaha! I don't know the last time I've had that much fun in a fight." He looked to Atalanta, "You really are something, you know that?" She smiled, answering, "Heh, you weren't too bad yourself." As the two complimented each other, Alistair ran up to the scene. Arash turned his attention toward him; "Ah, I thought my master had been defeated…" Alistair answered him, "Yeah… I'm sorry." Arash responded, "Don't be. You're just doing your job, after all. Listen, I want to thank you." Alistair was perplexed; "For what?" "Well, most people would have tried to take advantage of my master. They would have torn into him for his dream. You didn't. You treated him fairly, and I appreciate it." Alistair considered his response, "Well, of course. He was committed to his role, so it was the least I could do to take him seriously." Arash looked up, "Well, thank you. He's a good kid, you know?"

Arash beckoned Alastair with his hand, "Before I go, there's something I need to ask you." Alistair acknowledged him, and knelt beside him. "Tell me, what's your wish?" "Honestly, I'm still not sure." Arash laughed; "Haha, that's totally fine." He paused for a brief moment, and the wind blew gently. "There's something I want to give you, Alistair." "What's that?" Arash held up his hand. Alistair took the hint, and grasped his palm. "I want you to carry my Noble Phantasm." "Wait, what?!" Alistair shouted. Atalanta, too, was surprised by this. "Well," Arash continued, "I never got the chance to use it, so I want to give it to you. I'm sure you're gonna do great things, and I know it'll come in handy." Alistair felt concerned, "Look, I'm no hero. I don't really think I'll be saving anyone, and-" "You don't have to be. Just be a good person, and listen to your heart." A light enveloped the two's hands, signifying the transfer had been done. Arash released Alistair's hand saying, "When you need to call upon it, it's name will come to you. Just be careful. It has the potential to really harm you. It could even kill you. Only use it as a last resort, okay?" Alistair looked to him, still shocked by this course of events; "I… I see. I'll make sure to put it to good use, and I'll do my best to honor you. Thank you. Thank you so much." Still smiling brightly, Arash answered; "Haha, don't mention it. You two are gonna do well out there. I just know it." With that send off, Arash faded away.

Alistair stood, looking at his hand as though it held some kind of answer. Atalanta walked up to him, "That was rather fortuitous, don't you think?" Alistair was returned to his senses; "Oh! Umm, yeah." They were both quiet for a moment. "You did a great job, Archer. Were you injured at all?" "No. I must say, despite your opponent's lack of skills, you did a good job yourself! Are you hurt?" she answered, returning his question. "Just some cuts," he said, "and thank you!" She smiled and nodded. "Still," she remarked, "you look tired. We should return to My Room so that we may recover before pressing onward." Alistair hadn't noticed it, but he was feeling out of it. Maybe his exchanges with Percival and Arash had taken the wind out of him. "Yeah, you're right," he said, "and, hey, I can cook up some of the food we picked up!" Atalanta suddenly looked around; "You don't happen to remember where we put the food, do you?" Alistair too looked around, before remembering leaving the food at the base of the mountain so it wouldn't be destroyed during the fight. He hung his head, "Aww shit…" After trekking back down the mountain, the two returned to My Room, and shared dinner as they had discussed.

Alistair prepared dinner. While he was inexperienced and graceless at cooking, he felt proud of the results. As the two ate, they discussed tactics and their plans moving forward. After dinner, they found that there was still plenty of time to kill before they went to sleep, so they continued their discussion. After they ran out of strategies to discuss, the conversation then shifted to more personal topics. It was then Alistair came to a realization.

"I hadn't thought to ask until now, but why are you after the grail, Atalanta?" She took a moment to word her response. "My wish is for all children to be blessed, and loved." Alistair was surprised by her answer. He thought on what to say; "I see… and how did you come to that wish." She took a breath, "My father was a king in Arcadia. He always wanted a son to succeed him and carry on the family line. So when I was born, he chose to reject me for being a girl. He left me on top of a mountain to die. It was only by the grace of the goddess Artemis that I survived, and I was eventually taken in and raised by a group of hunters. Ever since, I've made it my mission to help children. So they never have to suffer alone. It is the least I can do, since my life was spared, when so many others were not."

Alistair tried to process all of this. For someone who was as pragmatic as her, this dream was incredibly grandiose. "Huh, that's…" Alistair couldn't think of what to say. "What is it? Do you think I'm a fool for wanting something like this?" she seemed perturbed. Alistair answered, "No, I never said that." "Would you abandon me for chasing such a dream?" she asked. "What, of course not!" Alistair replied emphatically. He collected himself, "Look, I've said it before, but I want to be clear now; as long as you'll let me, I'll fight by your side. I promise, I'm in this with you till the end." Atalanta smiled, "I'm glad to hear that. Thanks, master."

A little after that discussion, the two made ready for bed. This was the first night the two shared a bed. Prior, she had insisted on sleeping on the couch, despite Alistair's offers to sleep there instead. She did, however, place a veritable wall of pillows between the two of them. Still, Alistair appreciated the company. As the two slept, the first light snow fell outside, and the fog accentuated the halo of orange light shining from the distant city.

Chapter V:

For a while, things were simple. The two continued their journey at a lax pace, and encountered few threats. While they engaged in battle with several servants along their route, none were strong enough to pose any major challenge. The two carried on toward their goal, occasionally stopping to collect food and supplies. There was on and off snowfall, but never enough to stick to the ground. Things went smoothly.

They reached a lightly forested area. It was early in the morning, and a thick fog hung over the ground when they were intercepted by a stranger. The man was tall, and wore a dark, long coat. He looked to Alistair disapprovingly. "I told you not to travel north, and yet, I find you here. How disappointing." His deep voice carried through the fog. Alistair remembered the man from several weeks back. "Who are you, and what the hell do you want?" Alistair asked sharply. The man ignored him; "It seems I will have to be the one to show you how hopeless you really are." He drew a long, thin blade from his coat. Atalanta armed herself quickly.

In an instant, the man lunged at Alistair. Alistair leapt back, narrowly avoiding the swing of his sword. Atalanta fired at the stranger, who twisted himself rapidly to deflect the shot with his blade. He jumped backwards and held the palm of his hand toward Alistair. A number of phantasmal chains shot themselves from a nearby tree, quickly wrapping themselves around Alistair, binding him. Atalanta shot again, and the stranger stepped back into the fog, concealing his presence, and rendering himself invisible.

At once, Alistair could identify the man. He had heard of a family of mages from Japan who specialized in binding magic. They often worked as mercenaries, using their skills for espionage and torture. "You're a member of the Yamazaki family!" Alistair shouted. The man sneered; "Well done, boy. You know who I am. But that won't do anything to save you. The only way you're getting out of those bindings is if I release them. And I want you to see how useless you really are, so I'm going to kill your servant in front of you. Archer, handle her."

A gust of weaponized air shot at Atalanta, who ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding it. A servant stepped forward from behind a tree. With his eyes closed, he had long red hair, and wore a white jacket. There was a large, black scar on his chest. In his hand he held a bow with so many strings, it looked more like a small harp. He spoke calmly, "Ah, how sad. I truly hate killing beautiful women." Alistair tried to use a code cast to reinforce Atalanta's speed, but the bindings around him cancelled out any mana he could of used. He clenched his teeth in frustration.

Atalanta fired a charged arrow at the archer, who feigned to the right to dodge it. As it exploded against the tree behind him, he swiped the strings of his bow, sending three blades of wind at Atalanta. She shot herself backwards and swiftly climbed the tree behind her. The archer continued to play his bow, shooting five more blades from multiple angles around Atalanta. She jumped to an adjacent branch, only to have more shots fired at her. She darted across the treeline, narrowly avoiding his attacks, until one of the blades cut into her right leg, sending her crashing to the ground.

"Speed alone won't be enough to avoid me, you know?" the archer spoke. Atalanta growled, rising to her feet. "Try me!" she shouted strafing to the left and right, taking care not to put pressure on her wounded leg, and firing arrows at her opponent. Each shot, however, was expertly deflected by blades of wind. The archer studied her movements, analyzing weaknesses to exploit. He then shot at her, grazing her shoulder, as she grunted in pain.

"Damn it! Why are you doing this?!" Alistair shouted. The man named Yamazaki appeared near Alistair, smiling at maniacally. "There are few things I enjoy more in life than watching the suffering of fools. Than savoring that moment of realization when one comes to terms with their own weakness." He sat on a nearby stone. "Now, watch."

Atalanta fell to her knees. She had lacerations across her right leg and shoulder, her stomach, and her left arm. None of the wounds would be fatal, but it was clear she was no longer in a condition to fight. Try as he did, Alistair could not heal her, and she was aware of this. "I can't die here!" she yelled. She raised her bow, biting an arrow and firing it with her teeth. Archer deflected it, before speaking, "Why is it that you cling so desperately to your life?" "I need to save them! The children! I have to try! No one else will! I didn't come this far just to die here!" she cried out. "You want use the Holy Grail to save children?" he asked sardonically. She glared at him. "No," he said, "this is much too sad. That someone so beautiful and confident would cling to something so delusional. I cannot stand to watch something so tragic. Oh, why must I be the one to bear witness to such sadness? Please, consider my killing you an act of mercy. For that is all I can do."

He fired three shots directly at her, aiming to decapitate her. As Atalanta's rage burned, Alistair could only look on in disbelief, much to Yamazaki's delight. As the blades flew toward Atalanta, however, they were suddenly deflected by a burst of flames. A sword swung through the air, cutting the flames, and dispersing the fog. At the center of the explosion, a servant stood proudly. She wore an extravagant dress of red, white, and gold. Her blonde hair was tied neatly in a bun, and her emerald eyes shone through her messy bangs. She pointed her crimson blade at the archer.

"I have seen enough!" she announced. "Archer clad in white, how dare you mock the dreams of this fair warrior! I cannot allow your shameful misdeeds to continue!" "Ah, how unfortunate. For me to have to fight two beautiful women. I truly am unlucky," he said. He launched several blades at the saber, but she threw up a wall of flame around her, which absorbed the air. She dove forward, slashing the archer several times across the chest, as she cut his bow away from him. He fell onto his back. As he propped himself up on his elbows, he found Saber's blade pointed less than an inch from his face. "On my honor, I give you a choice," she said, "stay here and die, or flee with your life."

He hung his head. "How sad. To be beaten so badl-*hack!" His eyes shot open and looked down to find an arrow lodged in his throat. He looked up to see Atalanta behind Saber. Her eyes were wide with rage, her pupils narrowed with enmity. She gave of an aura of unadulterated hatred, and a horrific fire blazed within her eyes. "_Shut up…_!" Alistair looked upon her, and felt an indescribable feeling rise up from the bottom of his stomach. It was something sinister. Some morbid combination of both grief and fear. The archer fell back, his body swiftly disappearing.

"Cowards…" Yamazaki too began to disappear. The chains binding Alistair dissolved, and he fell to his hands and knees coughing. "To think this weak waste of space would be saved at the last moment. Fucking pathetic…" Yamazaki sneered. "If only I could be there to see you be torn apart by the gatekeeper." Alistair looked up at him, "What are you talking about?" Yamazaki quietly chuckled to himself before he disappeared completely.

"That was uncalled for! Though… I cannot say I blame you," Saber sighed. Atalanta wearily rose to her feet, looking downward, as Alistair rushed to her side. He quickly cast healing spells which slowly began to repair her wounds. "Thank you for saving us," Alistair said earnestly. "Indeed, think nothing of it!" Saber announced proudly. "In fact, our meeting may prove very fortuitous," she said. "My master and I have something we would like to discuss with you two, if you'll go along with us."

Alistair looked to Atalanta, who silently gave a nod of approval. "Excellent!" Saber announced, "Then you may come out, master." A young woman appeared from behind a large tree nearby, and ran up to join the conversation. She had long brown hair and brown eyes; she wore a brown school uniform. When she arrived with the group, she spoke, "Alright, Saber. Would you like to explain the situation to them?" "Indeed!" Saber replied enthusiastically, "but let us go somewhere else. A battlefield is no place to have a civilized discussion, don't you agree?" Everyone seemed to go along, and the group began walking down the nearby path.

"You've no doubt noticed that this Grand Holy Grail War is not progressing in an ordinary fashion, yes?" Saber asked. "Right," Atalanta replied, "We've been wondering about that ourselves. Do you have any idea as to what's going on?" Saber answered; "Indeed, though there is a lot to go over. Most pressingly, there is more to this conflict than you've been lead to believe." Alistair chimed in, "What do you mean by that?" She continued, "This is not simply a Holy Grail War to grant one's wishes. Rather, it is an evaluation of sorts. The Moon Cell wishes to pass a modicum of authority to three individuals it recognizes as worthy. This means that once someone reaches the grail, they will not only have their wish granted, but they will also be made an administrator of Seraph."

"Wait, why is the Moon Cell looking for administrators?" Alistair asked. "We do not know for sure," she answered, "however we suspect it has to do with its interest in humans. You may have noticed some oddities in your journey up to this point. Such as buildings where they should not be, or animals living in unusual habitats. The Moon Cell is attempting to create a living model of the Earth as a means of emulating humanity and thereby protecting them in the event of a disaster striking the earth below." "I see," Atalanta said, "but that doesn't explain why no one has finished already. You said the Moon Cell wants three winners, right? We were under the impression that this conflict has been going on for an extended period of time. So why has no one reached the grail, and why are so many people uninterested in pursuing it?" "Indeed, you are correct," Saber replied, "This war has gone on for a little over eighteen months. As you may have assumed, some did reach the grail, or rather, almost reached it. There is a so called 'gatekeeper' that defends the grail by issuing a trial. Several dozen masters have reached this final challenge, but none have been able to overcome it. Many died, and the few that managed to survive abandoned their ambitions for the grail. They either chose to live inconspicuous lives on Seraph, or chose to continue fighting and killing other masters, for whatever sick and twisted reasons."

"Given this knowledge," Saber continued, "my master and I would like to propose an alliance! Since there will be up to three winners, working together would only be to our benefit, and it would make the process of reaching the grail easier for us all, don't you think?" "Hang on," Atalanta said, "This is a lot to take in. That's a lot of highly specific information for you to know. How did you find all of this out?" "You're right," Saber conceded, "We've just learned of this ourselves. We were told by a strange white haired man in red. He claimed to know us from somewhere far off, but neither of us knew who he was. Despite this, however, I felt he was trustworthy." "Did you catch his name?" Alistair asked. "When asked, he said he didn't have one. I know this all sounds highly suspicious, but I still trust him. My intuition is never wrong!" Saber announced pridefully. "He gave us the information I have just shared with you, and said we should seek out help if we wanted to end this war. He said he knew we wouldn't make it without allies. Shortly after, we saw you two fighting, and my gut told me to intervene. You both seem capable enough, and I'm willing to put my trust in you." "Do you know where this man is now?" Atalanta asked. "He left, saying there was someone he had to find. Something about how she would probably get herself into trouble, or some such like that," Saber said.

"Sooo," her master spoke up, "what do you say?" Alistair looked to Atalanta, who seemed distant. He could imagine she felt wary of strangers like this. After all, this all seemed too good to be true. However, after their last struggle, she must have realized they could use all the help they could get. Alistair gleamed all this from a simple exchange of glances, and he agreed with her feelings. "Alright," he said, "We'll go along with you two. Is this okay with you, Archer?" She placed a hand on her hip, "Very well."

"Excellent!" Saber shouted, "Then let us give you this." She held out a small disk shaped device. Alistair took it, asking "What it it?" "The man from earlier gave them to us," the master spoke, "They're a set of beacons. They'll allow us to contact one another. What's more, they allow the other user to warp to a specific set of coordinates, set by the other user." Saber chimed in, "We can work in shifts. One group can rest in My Room, while the other covers ground. We'll be much more efficient that way! If one of us is in danger, they can summon the others in a matter of moments. Truly ingenious!" she beamed.

"Wait a moment! We've still not fulfilled the most important part of our new alliance!" Saber announced. "Oh?" Alistair said. "We must exchange our names! It is customary to do so," she replied. "Master," she continued, "why don't you go first?" Her master stood up straight. "Alright," she said, "I'm Hakuno Kishinami. Nice to meet you." "Indeed! You should be honored to work alongside me," Saber burst forth, "For I am Nero Claudius Germanicus, fifth emperor to the eternal Roman Empire!" She exuded a radiant confidence.

"Wow," Alistair said. "I'm Alistair Kokinos," he announced, "and…" Atalanta spoke up, "Servant class archer. My name is Atalanta." "Excellent!" Nero shouted, "It will be a pleasure to work with you, renowned hero!" Alistair and Hakuno exchanged a handshake. Nero curtsied dramatically, winking and smiling to Atalanta, who half-heartedly smiled and bowed in response.

"You two must be tired after your battle," Hakuno said. "Why don't you get some rest for now, and we can trade off later?" Alistair looked to Atalanta, whose wounds were still healing. "That'd be great," he said, "Thank you so much!" She smiled, "Hehe, of course." She turned to Nero; "Saber, shall we be off?" "Indeed!" Nero huffed. "We'll see you in a few hours," Hakuno said. "Count on it," Alistair replied.

With that, the two set off. Alistair lent his hand to Atalanta, "Come on. Let's get some rest for now." She quietly nodded, and the two warped to My Room. She wearily sat down, staring off, and asked, "Do you think we can trust them?" Alistair gave his honest response, "Well, they did rescue us. If they'd wanted to kill us, they would have done it on the spot. And I can't think of any ulterior motive they might have had. They seemed as surprised by their own story as we did, so I don't think they're taking us for a ride. So, yeah, I think we should go along with them for now."

Atalanta sighed tiredly, "I see. I'll go along with your intuition. I'm sorry for being so distrusting. Too many of the people in my life were deceivers." Alistair was intrigued. She rarely delved into her past. She quickly changed the subject, however; "I'm going to get some sleep to expedite my healing. I suggest you do the same." She laid back on the couch, rolled to her side, and quickly drifted off to sleep. "Yeah… I'll do that," Alistair said. He tossed a nearby blanket over her before heading off to rest.

After they had recovered, the two switched off with Nero and Hakuno as they had discussed. They carried out their plan smoothly, and both parties benefited from the increased efficiency. As they marched steadily on, the snowfall increased, blanketing the landscape under a layer of crystalline white.

She ran up the side of the mountain as the rain beat down on her relentlessly. _What have I done?_ She searched fervently under the clouded night sky. She cried out until her voice was hoarse. _Please! Please!_ She looked in every nook and cranny, her hands bleeding from digging at the rocks. _What have I done?!_ Her pleas went unanswered. She searched for hours, until her legs finally gave out. She collapsed to her knees, her tears indistinguishable from the torrential rainfall. _I'm sorry!_ She shook, bringing her head to her knees. _I'm so sorry!_ She wept, alone under the moonless sky. _How can you ever forgive me?_

"Master!" Alistair gasped, shooting upright. He had broken out in a cold sweat, and his body trembled lightly. "You were shouting! What's going on?!" Atalanta yelled. His voice shook when he answered, "I-I don't know! It was… just a bad dream…" "It must have been awful," Atalanta said, "You're crying." "Oh?" He reached up and felt the wetness of his cheek. "Yeah… I guess you're right."

She looked to him sympathetically. "Would talking about it make you feel any better?" she asked. Alistair tried to collect himself; "Maybe later. I just… dreamt something far too sad." "I see…" she said, "I'm sorry." They sat in silence for a brief moment. "Well, try and get some rest, okay?" she said, closing her eyes and lying back down. "Yeah…" Alistair said, "Sorry about that." She mumbled something in acknowledgment before drifting into sleep once more.

Alistair closed his eyes, but found he could not sleep. He turned and looked out the window, watching the snow fall. He struggled to calm himself. He listened to Atalanta's soft, rhythmic breathing. He could not quiet his mind, and his heart was as a tempest.

Chapter VI

By travelling in shifts, the group made steady progress. Both parties encountered a bit of trouble, but it was never anything unmanageable. They occasionally met up to check on eachother, and gradually developed a mutual trust, putting Atalanta's doubts to rest. They would exchange information, and sometimes supplies, before changing shifts. The system they set up proved highly efficient, and they were confident that they could reach the grail together.

Alistair and Atalanta had just left a small city after resupplying, travelling just under a mile's distance, when a thunderous crash on the road ahead of them caught their attention. A voice called out to them; "Heeeeey! It's been a while, huh, sis?!" As the dust cleared they saw the chariot in front of them. Atop rode a green haired man, clad in dark armor with a red sash, holding a spear. "Rider?!" Atalanta shouted in surprise. "You know him?" Alistair asked. She seemed embarrassed, "Yes… and… I cannot fight this man…" Rider laughed; "Easy, easy! I was just in the neighborhood when I saw a familiar face, and I had to say hello!" He wore a confident grin.

"So," he asked, "how've you been?" Atalanta blushed slightly when answering, "I've been well, all things considered. And you?" "Good to hear. I'm doin' pretty well, myself. I've landed a nice master, and wouldn't you know it, our interests align perfectly." Alistair butted in; "What do you mean?" "Well, you see," Rider replied, "I'm a pretty simple guy. I don't really care about the grail or any of that. I just want to be a hero. As it so happens, my master doesn't want the grail either. She just wants to protect other people. So we've been going after the masters and servants who decided they'd rather kill people than go after the grail. In fact, I think you guys might have taken out one of my marks, so thanks for that!" "You mean Yamazaki?" Alistair asked. "That'd be the one."

"So tell me," Rider became more serious, "are you still chasing after your same dream?" Atalanta replied plainly, "Yes. It is my duty to see it through." "I see," he then pointed the tip of his spear toward Alistair, "and what about you? Why're you risking everything for the chance to hold the grail?" Alistair inhaled. "I've decided," he said, "that I want to save someone who's important to me." Rider lowered his spear, and gave a smile, feeling relieved. "This is news to me!" Atalanta piped up. "Yeah, I decided a few days ago," Alistair replied. "Well, I'm glad," she said. "It's good that you finally have something to work toward." Alistair smiled in affirmation.

"By the way…" she said to Rider, "I never got the chance to properly thank you for what you did back then. Nor did I… ever apologize for my actions." "Hey," Rider said sternly, "there's nothing to worry about. I was just doing what I thought was right. So were you." She responded, "Even so, I still feel ashamed for everything I-!" "Enough of that, really," Rider interrupted, "I don't have any hard feelings about it. If you want to make it up to me, then just take care of yourself, okay?" Atalanta looked down, her reply coming out as barely a whisper, "Alright…"

"I just wanted to check up on you two," he said, "and I've gotta get going. I was supposed to meet with my master a few minutes ago." "Who is your master anyway?" Alistair asked. "Oh, she's a nice girl," Rider faced Atalanta, "I think you two would get along!" He cracked his reigns; "Anyway, I'm off. See you two around!" Alistair gave a wave, while Atalanta nodded somberly. His chariot sped off, flying up into the air, and off into the distance.

After he left, Alistair turned to Atalanta and asked, "What all happened between you two?" She took a moment to collect herself; "I'll… tell you some other time. If that's okay with you…" Alistair nodded understandingly, "Of course. Whenever it's comfortable for you to talk about it." She looked to him, "Thank you… master." After a moment, she spoke again, "Let's keep going." Alistair agreed, and they carried on with their journey.

After a couple of hours trudging through the biting cold and snow, they came upon a small ruined town. The decaying grey concrete buildings were decorated by a layer of snow and rubble. The town had long been abandoned, and the damage to the structures indicated that there had been several battles fought therein. One could only guess whether the town had been empty before the fighting took place, or if there was a more sinister story locked within the forgotten debris.

As the two made their way down the main road to cross the ruins, they were stopped short by a staccato of bullets shattering the pavement a few feet in front of them. Surprised, they looked up to see their assailant seated atop a nearby rooftop. He wore black and grey armor, with a red scarf wrapped around his head and over his shoulders. In his right hand, draped over his knee, was a machine pistol with a drum magazine. From behind his mask, his grey eyes stared coldly at Alistair and Atalanta.

"I'm going to ask you a question," he said flatly. "If you answer correctly, I will let you pass unharmed." Before either of them could speak up, he looked to Alistair. "Why do you seek the Holy Grail?" Alistair answered; "I want to use it to save someone important to me." The masked man pressed further, "Is this person dead?" "No, why?" Alistair asked. Without acknowledging him, the man shifted his gaze to Atalanta. "What about you, woman?" Alistair could only get in a frustrated "Hey!" when she answered the stranger; "My wish is to ensure that all children are loved and protected." The assassin scoffed and stood up.

In an instant, he seemingly teleported to directly in front of her, pointing the muzzle of his gun in her direction. As he pulled the trigger, she quickly ducked down, using her right leg to kick Alistair out of harm's way. Assassin swiftly drew a combat knife with his left hand. He spun clockwise 180 degrees, slashing her stomach before she could react. He completed the turn by kicking her with his right leg, launching her several feet backward.

She flipped, catching herself. She quickly summoned her bow, shooting several arrows at her assailant. He feigned to the left, firing a burst of shots at her before throwing his knife in her direction. She dodged and he pressed the advantage to close the distance between them. As he caught his own knife again, she fired an arrow at his head. He twisted himself slightly, the arrow only grazing him, cutting his scarf. She shot two more arrows which found purchase in his shoulder, as his facial coverings fell to the side, revealing his messy white hair and tan skin. Unfazed, he unleashed a flurry of slashes across her torso and back as he quickly danced around her. He stabbed the knife into her abdomen before kicking her bow out of her left hand, sending it careening off the street.

Alistair frantically searched for something he could do to give Atalanta the upper hand. He employed a number of code casts to strengthen and heal her, but none were enough to give her the advantage. He tried to use his beacon to summon Hakuno and Nero, but he was unable to, finding that it had been jammed somehow. It was as if the town was held in a bounded field, or a reality marble. As he desperately searched for something he could do to help, Atalanta's bow landed at his feet. He looked up to see her badly wounded, attempting to fend Assassin off with his own knife. It was in that moment that Alistair was struck with a sudden realization, and he began channeling his mana into a projection.

Atalanta staggered, glaring at Assassin before pulling the knife from herself and turning the blade in his direction. She let out a yell before lunging at him. She managed to get in a few blows, pushing herself to move as quickly as her opponent. However, he landed several blows on her already injured stomach. She doubled over, coughing up a small amount of blood. Taking advantage of this opening, he shot her several times with his machine pistol, before losing a vicious punch across her face, sending her careening into a nearby wall of concrete. Her body slammed into it sideways, causing it to crack in several directions, before she fell to the ground.

She managed to seat herself upright against the wall. She looked up, gritting her teeth and glaring at Assassin who drew a large, single-shot pistol and calmly approached her. She cried out, "Why are you doing this?!" "I will not allow someone unworthy to reach the grail." "Who the hell are you to decide something like that?!" He looked to her coldly; "I'm one of the few people to have held the grail." He loaded his pistol, continuing, "If you ask something impossible of the grail, it will either twist your wish, or distort the world beyond recognition to fulfill it, causing immeasurable damage in the process. I refuse to let any naive fool get ahold of it." "Like hell!" Atalanta screamed, "I refuse to accept a world that allows children to suffer! If the grail can really perform miracles, there's no reason it shouldn't be able to save them! I can't abandon them!" Assassin cocked his gun, taking aim; "That's why you're going to die here."

Alistair picked up Atalanta's bow with his left hand. In his right, he held a pale, glimmering arrow. He nocked the arrow and drew the bow, aiming at Assassin. For all the anger and fear he was feeling at that moment, his mind was clear, yielding to him the one word he needed at that moment. "Leave her alone you piece of shit!" he screamed. "Stella-!" Assassin reacted a moment too late, only turning slightly as the arrow struck his side. The air stood still before a massive shockwave burst forth, a beam of light shooting out the other side of Assassin's body. He collapsed onto his knees. There was no way for him to have predicted this turn of events, and he cursed himself for having fallen.

Alistair cried out in pain, the right side of his body burning intensely. He winced, falling to his knees and doubling over in agony. After what felt like an impossibly long time, the pain gradually dulled, but the right half of his body felt numb. "Master!" He heard her shout. He looked up to see her limping toward him. He slowly rose to his feet. She gripped his shoulders, "What the hell did you just do?!" He smiled weakly at her, "Sorry… just trying to help." "What about you?" he asked between labored breaths, "let me heal you." "I'll be fine," she said, "I'm more worried about you. What happened?!" "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll… pull myself together. For now let's get out of here."

He began to walk toward the main road when he stumbled. Atalanta offered her shoulder, and together they began to walk out of the ruins. As they walked, Alistair felt a hand grab hold of his leg. He looked down and saw Assassin, who had already begun to disappear. "Please…" he said in a demanding voice, "Don't burn the world for the sake of a dream." Alistair looked down to him and replied quietly, "...I know." Assassin let go of his leg before speaking. "Then go." He seemed dissatisfied, but he had done all he could. With those words, Assassin's body disappeared.

"What happened to you two?!" Nero exclaimed in characteristic dramatic fashion. Alistair explained the situation, from their fight with Assassin, to the jammed comms and his use of a noble phantasm. Nero and Hakuno were shocked by the sudden turn of events. "I'm not an expert, myself," Hakuno stated, "but let me take a look at you." Grateful for the second opinion, Alistair agreed to her examination. "No human should be able to use a noble phantasm. They require far too much mana, and are the manifestation of a hero's deeds and legends!" Nero said. "How on earth did you manage to get ahold of such a thing?" "That's a long story," Alistair said, "but I guess you could say it was a sort of gift."

"Hmmm," Hakuno stated, finishing her inspection. "It's a miracle you're still alive. You overloaded your magical circuits. They've been damaged, but should heal. The damage would have been much worse if you'd used the noble phantasm's full power." "How do you mean?" Atalanta asked. "Since you used Archer's bow, rather than creating the original bow used for the attack, its power was limited. You only created the arrow. If you made both, you could theoretically fire the attack at full power. But, it probably goes without saying… if you did that, there's a very good chance you'd die."

"I see…" Alistair said frankly. "Please," Atalanta spoke up, "Be careful with such a thing in the future." Alistair smiled weakly, "I know." He turned his attention to the others; "Anyway, thanks for looking me over." Hakuno nodded. "Since we still haven't finished our shift yet, why don't you two go relax until it's time?" Alistair continued, hopping off a tree stump. "Nonsense!" Nero shouted, "Look at you two! You're both badly injured. We'll carry on for now. You two need to rest!" Her authoritative air was impressive. "We really are in no shape to defend ourselves if we are attacked," Atalanta said. Alistair laughed awkwardly, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry for this, guys." "Don't worry about it," Hakuno said, "You two did well back there, and deserve a break."

Alistair and Atalanta returned to My Room, where Alastair immediately collapsed onto the bed. He winced in pain when his right arm hit the mattress. "Honestly!" Atalanta sighed, "Let me bandage your wounds." Alistair glanced to the burns that dotted his arm. He accepted her assistance, removing his shirt as she applied bandages. "You really are foolish, pulling a stunt like that…" she said. He was about to agree with her when she interrupted herself; "No, I shouldn't say such things…" Alistair was surprised. It wasn't like her to correct herself. "I never thought to say it before," Atalanta said, "but… thank you for saving me, master." Alistair smiled warmly, "Of course." She finished tending to his wounds and he put his shirt back on.

"I've gotta pay you back for all the times you saved my ass, you know?" he teased. She flicked him, "You're ridiculous, you know that?" He laughed, "Yeah, probably." He laid back and looked to the ceiling, "Sorry it isn't much, but I'll try to channel my mana into your healing..." "I'll be fine," she replied, "You just worry about your own wounds, okay?" When he didn't reply, she looked to find him already fast asleep. She chuckled to herself, throwing a blanket over him before lying down and drifting off to sleep herself.

Chapter VII

The snowfall across Seraph ceased, leaving in its wake a thick blanket of frost and snow that covered the vast digital landscape. Despite managing to avoid combat, and moving at a relatively lax pace, Alistair's wounds were slow to heal. He had been bandaged up for several days, and although he was gradually recovering, he felt frustrated by his inability to take care of himself. More than that, however, his physical condition created an internal conflict, which he did his best to hide from Atalanta. He was fairly confident he would need to release his borrowed Noble Phantasm once again if they were going to make it to the grail. He knew what this meant, and this spawned a list of worries that preyed on his mind. He wouldn't abandon Atalanta. He couldn't. But what would happen to her? What would become of her dream? What would she do if it fell apart? He didn't mind losing his life for the sake of someone else, but what good would that do if she broke down in the face of a cruel reality? He needed to be sure that wouldn't happen, but he had no idea how to go about asking.

As they travelled onward, they eventually stopped to rest in a small city. They made their way to a park located adjacent to a central shopping center. The two sat on a bench for a time, watching the residents go about their business under the midday sun. "Master, we're running low on some supplies. I'm going to head into the market to restock. You just stay here," Atalanta said after a time. "I can go with you," Alistair replied. "You're still recovering from your injuries. You should stay here and rest while you can." "I'll be alright," Alistair refuted. She placed her hand on his shoulder; "I insist. Should anything happen, I'll make my way back to you. Besides, it won't be more than a few minutes." Alistair looked at her for a moment, before sighing and nodding, "Alright… and thank you." She smiled and nodded before heading off.

Alistair watched her walk off. Once she had gone, he leaned his head back, watching the clouds slowly roll by before closing his eyes. He sat there for a while, breathing in the cold air, when a familiar voice called out to him; "Wow, you look like hell." He lowered his head and looked to see the green haired man he and Atalanta ran into a few days ago standing over him. "Rider! What are you doing here?!" Alistair asked, thoroughly surprised. Rider gave a nonchalant laugh; "Oh, I just happened to be in the neighborhood when I spotted my second favorite pair of master and servant. I thought it'd be rude if I didn't swing by and say hi."

Alistair was still somewhat thrown off by his sudden appearance. He asked, "How long have you been following us?" "Not long," Rider said. His expression became more serious; "There's something I wanted to talk to you about." "What's that?" Alistair asked. Rider sat on the bench next to him. "Tell me, did Archer ever tell you what went down during the Great Holy Grail War we fought in?" "No," Alistair answered, "She said she would some other time. She seemed uncomfortable with the whole thing."

"I see. Well, I think you deserve to know. And after I tell you, I have a favor I wanna ask you," Rider said. Alistair looked at him, nodding and listening intently. "I won't bother you with all the details, because it got kinda complicated," Rider spoke, "but I'll tell you what happened to Atalanta. The short of it is, some kids wound up dying in front of her. It wasn't like they were bystanders in the war or anything, but she wanted to save them in her own way, and she couldn't. She…" Rider paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "She became enraged with the servant who killed them, and fell into a deep depression. She went berserk trying to kill that servant. She used a powerful curse on herself to increase her power at the cost of her spirit. I couldn't tell you what exactly was going through her head at the time, but it seemed like she was just intent on destroying herself as she was her opponent, if not moreso. In the end, I sacrificed myself in order to break the curse and save her. That's what wound up happening to us in that war."

Alistair took a moment to process all this. At last, the question he needed to ask her to put his mind at ease came to him. He turned to Rider; "I see… Yeah. That sounds like something she'd do. Then, I suppose I should thank you for saving her. She… means a lot to me." Rider chuckled, "Don't mention it. In fact, that's good to hear." He became more serious again, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I want you to do everything you can to take care of her. I'm worried she'll fall back into that same pit of despair, and I don't ever want that to happen to her again. She's pretty important to me too. But, I can't look after her, and she wouldn't want me to even if I could. So please, don't let her fall apart again." Alistair looked him in the eyes, and nodded firmly, "I promise. I'll do everything I can to make sure she's alright." Rider stood up, smacking Alistair on the back, "Thanks, kid. I can rest that much easier knowing you'll be looking out for her. I'm putting my faith in you." He walked off, waving with the back of his hand, "I won't keep you. See you around."

He disappeared before Alistair could interject, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He sat alone in the crisp afternoon sun for a while, appreciating the quiet, when he heard the sound of nearby laughter. He looked to see a group of four children playing in the snow. He had never been too big on kids before, but something about the carefree levity of these jovial children lightened his spirit. He saw their parents gathered around a nearby picnic table, as they talked and watched their kids. The humble and wholesome scene before him brought a smile to Alistair's face. Atalanta must be rubbing off on me, he thought to himself.

"Sorry I took so long," Atalanta said, suddenly appearing before Alistair. "Oh! It's no problem," he replied. She sensed something was off with him. "Did anything happen while I was away?" He responded, "Not really. I've just been thinking is all. Nothing to worry about." "Alright," she said cautiously, "Are you ready to move out?" "Yeah," Alistair replied, jumping to his feet. "Good," she said affirmatively, "We should be getting close to the central metropolis and the grail. I suggest we meet with the others to discuss our strategy moving forward." "Sounds good to me," Alistair said. From there, the two continued on with their journey.

True to Atalanta's prediction, that night they reached the top of one of the many hills overlooking the center of Seraph. From their vantage point, they could see a sprawling metropolis which would have put even the densest earthen city to shame. The halo of light it emanated was on par with the shine of the simulated moon that hung in the sky above. Amid the labyrinthine streets and buildings, one tower stood taller than the rest. Above it, likely unseen by the average NPCs that inhabited the city and adjacent lands, was a massive glowing cube; the Moon Cell's core and the home of the Holy Grail.

Alistair and Atalanta holed up in an abandoned building nearby, from which they contacted Nero and Hakuno. The four met and began to discuss both the events that had transpired as of late, as well as their plans for the battles ahead. They surmised that it would take a couple of days to reach the city's outskirts from their current position. From that, they agreed that they should all move together once they reached the city, as they had no idea what dangers could lay in wait, nor did they know what to expect regarding the infamous final challenge before reaching the grail.

The meeting wound down, and they would soon switch shifts. It was in that moment, spurred on by the lights of the city and the sense of finality that hung in the air, that Alistair resolved to find the answers he sought. As the other three talked, he took a deep breath to calm himself. He looked to Atalanta and spoke; "Hey, Archer, can I talk with you for a minute?" "Sure, can it wait till we return to our quarters?" She replied. "No, it'll be quick. Please." "Very well," she answered, thrown off by Alistair's sudden strange behavior. He and she walked to the outside of the building, while Nero and Hakuno spoke inside, occasionally looking over to make sure they were alright.

The night air was cold and still. "I… need to know something," Alistair said, "so I can decide how to act going forward." "Alright," she answered hesitantly, "what is it?" "Where does your wish come from? What is it that makes you want to save all the children in the world so badly?" She replied, "I already told you; my father abandoned me and I was saved. Ever since then, I've wanted to help children in need." Alistair was unsatisfied, "But there's more to it than that." "What are you talking about?" "That may be true, but what about you? Why give so much for your ideal?" "Why shouldn't I? Is it wrong to want to save children?" "No, but tell me, how many grail wars have you fought in?" She was caught off guard, "I… I don't know-" "How much have you endured and suffered, chasing this dream?" "I don't understand!" "Why do this to yourself? What about you? What about your happiness? Your salvation?" "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" she shouted. "What about your son?!"

Atalanta summoned her bow, and drew an arrow, aimed at Alistair's chest. From where he was standing, an arrow wouldn't be necessary. She stared daggers at him that cut deeper than any shot could. "Don't say another word..." she growled. Seeing the situation, Nero summoned her sword, but as she was about to intervene, Alistair held out his hand to stop her. "Tell me," he said with a false confidence, "would killing me bring you peace?" "What?!" she snarled. "If so, I'll gladly offer you my life." Atalanta lowered her gaze. She bit into her lip, and her hand trembled. She looked back up, tears welling in her eyes, and screamed, "Damn you!" She fired her arrow, it striking the wall behind Alistair. A trickle of blood ran down his cheek.

Atalanta turned and leapt into the trees, dashing off into the cold night. "Atalanta, wait!" Alistair cried out. As he began to chase after her, he felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked back to see Nero. "Give her some time," she said. "I know not what has torn into her so deeply, but she will need to collect herself. If she doesn't return after a while, we can all go look for her." Hakuno walked up and gave an affirmative nod. Alistair sighed in a futile effort to calm himself. "Alright," he said shakily, "Yeah… you're right. Thanks…"

The three returned to the building and huddled around the fire the group had built. As the minutes passed, Alistair paced anxiously. He repeatedly checked his left hand. He felt some relief every time he saw that he still had his command seals. _Good, at least I know she's still alive_, he thought. Hakuno and Nero tried to comfort Alistair. While he appreciated their concern, it did little to calm his fearful heart. Ten minutes turned to twenty, which turned to thirty, which turned to an hour. When they still saw no sign of Atalanta after an hour and a half, Nero and Hakuno relented, and the group set out to find her.

After half an hour of frantically searching together, the group decided to split up in order to cover more ground. Alistair ran through the forest, trudging through the thick snow. His lungs burned from the freezing air. "Archer!" he yelled into the night. "Archer!" After what felt to him like ages, he heard her voice, quietly call back, "Over here…" He traced the sound to its origin. There he saw her, sitting under an overhang, with her knees pulled to her chest. He approached her, stepping past the small fire she had made, which modestly illuminated the shelter. "May I sit next to you?" he asked after catching his breath. She gave a small nod. He sat himself on the cold ground next to her, the flickering light of the flames dancing across the ceiling as the stars illuminated the snow outside. They sat in silence for a while, neither of them quite sure of what to say.

"You're right…" Atalanta said at last. "I wasn't lying to you about my family, and my motivation. But you were right. There is more to it than that…" She paused for a moment, and stared blankly into the small flame before her. Letting out a sigh, she looked to Alistair; "You're my master. And you've chosen to stand by me this long. You have every right to know the truth…"

"It was pride. My pride was all I had left at that point. No friends. No real family. But I was still proud. Proud of my freedom, and, more than that, proud to be a servant of Artemis. So when my father demanded I be married, I used that pride to deny my would-be suitors. But my husband outwitted me, and I was forced into marriage. I lost my freedom as an adventurer, and my vow of chastity was broken. When I became pregnant, I was filled with dread and anger. I almost never left my home, and if I did, I covered my face, so that I might not be seen. So great was my shame."

"They had taken everything from me. My father could have the male heir he always wanted, and my husband could have the power and wealth he coveted. I was to be discarded and abandoned, a shameful disgrace. I… I couldn't let them win over me. I wouldn't let them take my pride. When my son was born, he became the center of my hatred. He symbolized my failure, and every time I saw his face, I saw my callus husband staring back at me. I refused to let the world bear witness to my disgrace. So one evening, I snuck out with him, and left him on the same mountain my father had left me on so many years ago."

"As I descended the peaks, I felt like I could think clearly for the first time since my marriage. I… I could be free as I once was. I could try to salvage my reputation as a follower of Artemis. As I made my way back, I stopped to bathe in a lake. As I did, I… I thought back to my days as a huntress and an adventurer. And… I remembered what I had sought back then. My desire to help the lost children my compatriots and I encountered. I remembered my own salvation. How every time I looked into the eyes of the lonely, forgotten children I met, I saw myself. How I wanted to save them all, so no one might suffer as I had. So I wouldn't have to wonder why it was me who was saved, when so many other children perished on those cliffs. And as these feelings resurfaced, the gravity of what I had just done sank in. I ran back up the mountain as quickly as I could. I searched and searched all throughout the night, pleading with the gods that I might find him. By the time the sun came up, I lost all hope."

"I… had become the very thing I hated. The shame of what I did that day outweighed anything my husband could have ever done to me. I kept looking for a time; searching temples and cities for my son. But I never found him. I sought punishment, retribution from the gods. It never came. I hated my husband and father for what they did to me, and I hated myself for what I had done. I eventually found a way to evoke the wrath of the gods upon my husband and myself. But even that punishment was not enough. So I became a heroic spirit. So that I might carry my old dream into the future. So that I could save the lost children of this world. So that I can stop monsters like myself from hurting kids. So that… I might find some sort of salvation, some sort of redemption!"

The air hung heavy between them as she finished detailing her shame. Tears welled in her eyes again, as she broke her gaze with Alistair. Quietly, she spoke, "That's why I have to do this. There's your answer…" Alistair sat in silence for a while. He felt a familiar pain in his chest. He had known for a while, and he thought he had made peace with it. But hearing the truth from Atalanta herself brought all that grief back to the surface. "I'm… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" he whispered, fighting off the lump in his throat. "Don't be," she said back, her gaze fixed to the ground, "this is my choice. My responsibility." Almost inaudibly, Alistair spoke; "I know what I need to do now…"

For a while, an impenetrable silence sat between the two, the only sound, the faint crackles and pops of the fire. "Master… Do you think it's possible…?" Atalanta asked quietly. Alistair sighed and thought for a moment. "I respect you too much to bullshit you," he said. "I don't think it can be done." She tensed at this, as though she had been struck. Alistair continued in an effort to alleviate her obvious suffering; "I… haven't lived a long life, and I don't know that I'm very wise, but… growing up in a family of low ranking mages, we travelled all over the world studying magics. We never really stayed in one place for too long, so I never formed many long lasting connections, but I met a lot of people and saw what life is like the world over."

"There's no shortage of suffering in the world. Some of it can be blamed on fate, but most of it can be traced back to one form of cruelty or another. That kind of evil is a plague that affects human beings everywhere, and it always has. But at the same time, I saw happiness. I saw people doing the best they could with what they had. I saw kindness, and hope, and love from all kinds of people. They found happiness in spite of hardship. And there's a goodness that proliferates around the world. Evil is done in the pursuit of happiness, and good is done in spite of evil. You can't have one without the other. People cannot be saved if there is nothing to save them from. They can't be happy without sadness to reference. If you take away all the problems in the world, you would be fundamentally altering what it means to be human. You would destroy the world as we know it. There's no telling whether or not it would bring condemnation upon the whole of humanity. Altering the world in such an essential way could prove disastrous."

"So I should just give up?! Accept all that's wrong with the world and leave the children to suffer?!" Atalanta lashed back. Alistair replied calmly; "I never said that. While it's impossible to save everyone, there's nothing wrong with trying to help as many people as you can. Reach out to those you encounter. Show kindness in the face of adversity. Do the best you can with what you have. Same as the people I was talking about. Look, I… I might not believe in your dream, but I believe in you."

Atalanta blushed, taken aback by this sudden, seemingly sincere comment. "W-what does that mean?!" Alistair smiled. He hadn't really ever seen her this flustered. "I know you won't ever give up. No matter how difficult things get, no matter how many people deny it, I know you won't abandon your dream. Your dream for a better world is a beautiful one, and I can't help but admire the passion and conviction with which you chase it. I understand now, how much it means to you, and I won't ever try to get in your way." "Alistair… thank you… I…" Atalanta seemed at a loss for words.

"But," she finally said, "I'm so tired. I won't give up… but I'm so tired of fighting. I… I don't know how many grail wars I've fought in. How many people I've killed. How many times I've died. How many times I've failed. I lost track a long time ago. All I know is that it… it hurts. It hurts so much, and I can't do anything about it. No matter how many times I try, I'm always too weak. These hands of mine have never been able to save anyone. No matter how strong I become, I'm still too weak…"

"Stop it!" Alistair shouted. "You're not weak at all! You're one of the strongest, most driven people I've ever met. If you're weak, then I must seriously misunderstand what it means to be strong. You only think that because you're trying to shoulder an impossible burden. The combined weight of the suffering of all the world's lost children is more than anyone can carry. A weakling would have given up a long time ago, but you're still here. I… I can't stand watching you do this to yourself! Watching you tear yourself apart because you think you're too weak! So let me lend you my shoulder. I want to ease your burden, even if only just a little. I want to take on some of that weight. And I promise I'll see us through this. I want to help you… more than anything…" He trailed off.

Atalanta seemed stunned by this announcement. She put her hand to her chest and spoke, "No one's ever said that to me before… but… why? Why do you care so much?" "Because you're… I don't know, you. You're kind, and strong, and dedicated, and caring, and, my God, you're beautiful. And whenever I see your face I just… I get this feeling that everything is going to be okay." Her face turned a bright red, but Alistair continued. "And I won't insult you by saying I have any idea of the pain you've been going through, but I… I know what it feels like to be alone. I know what it's like to hate yourself. What it's like to feel powerless. To chase something you can't ever have. So if what you've been dealing with is anything close to what I imagine it is, then it's my responsibility to help you in any way I can. And I… I care about you… How could I not?"

Atalanta sat in stunned silence. She looked to Alistair as though he was mad, but his calm sincerity showed the honesty of his words. She felt a strange, bitter-sweet emotion that she hadn't experienced in a very long time. A mix of surprise, confusion, sadness, happiness, and, just maybe, a hint of affection. How could someone care for a monster like her? Someone as weak as her? And yet, there he sat, smiling warmly at her. He held out his hand and asked; "So… whaddya' say? Partners?" The resolution in his eyes was as clear as the fondness in his smile. Atalanta blinked a few times to clear her head. She locked eyes with this strange man and clasped his hand; "Yes… master…"

The two sat there, beside one another, for a time. The cold night air danced off the sparkling snow underneath the endless stars that dotted the night sky. The humble fire in their shelter crackled and sputtered, casting a warm glow across their faces. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said. Both had laid their truth bare for the other, and both were accepted. However, Atalanta thought of something she wanted to say. Something she realized she should have said sooner. "Alistair… thank you." The words came out in a whisper. Alistair heard and felt a sense of gratitude toward her. No reply was needed. They both understood each other perfectly in those moments.

After a time had passed, Alistair stood up. "We should probably get headed back. Hakuno and Nero were helping me look for you. Wouldn't want to worry them," he said, holding his hand out to Atalanta. She took it, rising to her feet; "Yeah…" She still had an air of sadness about her. Perhaps it was the passing of the moment, or maybe she felt guilty about earlier. Alistair sensed this. He spoke gently, "Hey, come here…" and held out his arms. Wordlessly, Atalanta entered his embrace. He was surprised. He had expected her to play off her unhappiness. Yet, as he held her in his arms, a thought occurred to him. He had never been this close to her before. For all her power and strength, she felt so small to him now. She buried her face in his shoulder, mouthing almost silently, "Thank you…" Alistair responded by holding her tighter. This display was unlike her, but he didn't mind. The rest of the world could wait. This moment was the only thing that mattered. She was the only thing that mattered.

As they held each other, it also came to Alistair's attention how cold she was. "God, you're freezing!" he said as they broke their embrace. He unbuttoned his coat and held it out to her, "Here, take this." "N-no, I'm alright, really…!" His hand remaining outstretched, he said, "I insist." A hint of a smile spread across Atalanta's face; "That's not fair… but… alright." She took the coat and put it on. It was slightly too large, but it was warm, and she appreciated the gesture, though she was a touch too proud to admit it.

After putting out the small fire, the two walked through the thinly wooded forest along a path trodden through the snow. As they neared the spot where Alistair had last seen the others, the sound of clashing swords caught their attention. They quickened their pace to find the source of the commotion.

Chapter VIII

As they ran through the snow, the two sensed the presence of Nero and Hakuno, along with two other servants. Atalanta's honed senses made tracing the origin of the sounds a simple task. The staccato of clashing metal led them to a small clearing beside a frozen lake where they saw Nero locking swords with another servant. Her opponent wore a dress of white, with bright red hair. She wielded a large broadsword, and seemed intent on fighting Nero more than anything else. The other servant stood off to the side. She was scantily clad, wearing only a thin layer of Japanese looking armor. Her brown hair was tied off to the side. She stood idly with her eyes closed and her hand placed on the hilt of her katana. She seemed frustrated by something.

"Saber!" Atalanta shouted as the pair arrived on the battlefield. She swiftly shot an arrow at Nero's assailant, but it was deftly deflected by the other servant. Hakuno, who stood off to the side, yelled "You two made it!" The red haired servant then proclaimed to her partner, "Looks like you'll get to fight after all, Ushi!" before continuing to exchange blows with Nero. The other servant lunged at Atalanta, who dodged her strike. With her katana slamming into a nearby tree, she said, "Indeed. I've been waiting to fight a worthy opponent!" She seemed deeply excited by the prospect of battle. Atalanta, who usually approached combat with a sort of joyless acceptance, seemed equally energized; "Then I won't disappoint you! Master, back me up!"

"Right," Alistair shouted back as Atalanta leapt away from her opponent, firing a flurry of arrows. Her enemy, a rider class servant, pulled her blade from the tree-trunk and dodged the attack, launching herself forward to counter. She swung her sword horizontally, and Atalanta quickly ducked, avoiding the blow. At close range, Atalanta kicked upwards, narrowly striking Rider in the stomach. The two began a rhythmic dance of attacks and dodges, each unable to land any major hits on their opponent.

It was clear from watching that they were both incredibly quick fighters. Recognizing this, Alistair used his mana to reinforce Atalanta's speed in an effort to grant her the upper hand.

The two went about their battle at such a speed that it was difficult to follow with the eyes alone. Atalanta strove to put some space between her and her opponent, whereas Rider did everything in her power to close that distance. Atalanta darted toward the lake, Rider following closely behind. Their dance of attacks, dodges, and counter attacks took them to the center of the frozen lake. As Rider took a vertical swing, Atalanta seized the moment, leaping high into the air. She twisted gracefully in the night sky, suddenly turning her bow to face her opponent below. She shot off a barrage of arrows, seemingly across the entirety of the lake's surface. Rider deflected some, dodging others, though she was struck by several. The purpose of the attack, however, was not to hit Rider. As the arrows slammed into the ice, it cracked in several directions, splitting into a number of chunks that broke and spread apart atop the churning waters. Atalanta landed on a piece of ice several dozen meters away from her opponent, having finally created the distance she needed to gain the upperhand.

Rider, however, was unperturbed, and gave a subtle grin. She slammed her sword into its fur covered scabbard, which she held at her hip. She took a breath and shot herself forward. In a single instant, she seemingly teleported from one piece of ice to another, onto the next, and the next after that. Atalanta leapt back again, only to find Rider mere inches away from her. Rider grabbed the hilt of her sword and called out the name of her Noble Phantasm; "Dan-No-Ora!" In that moment, as her sword shot forward from her side, Alistair channeled as much mana as he could muster into Atalanta's defense. As Rider's sword flew, it slammed into and shattered seven layers of magical shields. Instead of tearing out her intestines, it only managed to leave a thin cut across Atalanta's stomach. Rider landed on the ground, tired from having just used her Noble Phantasm, and gave an irritated scoff.

Atalanta landed several feet away from her, quickly firing herself backwards across the cracking ice. She hit the shoreline and took a knee. "Very well! Let's see if you can outrun this!" she taunted. She threw back her hand, and in it, summoned two arrows. She nocked them and aimed her bow toward the sky. "To the twin gods, I offer thee this calamity!" The arrowheads began to shine brightly. "Phoebus Catastrophe!" She fired the two arrows into the night sky, where they disappeared. Suddenly, the stars began to glow brightly, as though whole constellations were lit ablaze. A seemingly endless barrage of arrow of pure light, both gold and green fell from the heavens. Rider knew she could not escape in time, and gave a satisfied smile. "Well done…!" The arrows slammed into the lake with tremendous force. One after another, the divine rain pelted the earth, shaking the ground. When the last shot fell, the lake's surface was free of ice, and steam rose off the water. Alistair marvelled at this display of might. Never before had he witnessed something so beautiful and terrifying. So this was her true power.

He stood, awestruck, as Atalanta walked to his side. "Thank you, master. You really saved me back there." Alistair was broken from his trance; "Oh, of course!" He gave a confident grin. "And you too. That was the most incredible thing I've ever seen." She gave a little laugh, "Think nothing of it." After a moment passed, she spoke again, "Here." She took his coat off and held it out to him, "You probably want this back. And, I'm plenty warm after all that." Alistair took it, noting that it was surprisingly not too worse for wear. He thanked her when they heard a familiar voice call out, "Heeeeeeeeey!"

Hakuno and Nero appeared from the clearing nearby, apparently having emerged victorious from their last battle. Nero looked unusually tired. "So," Hakuno spoke up, "are you two alright?" "Yes. I… thank you both for your concern and for helping my master look for me. I'm sorry for my outburst. Everything's okay now," Atalanta answered. "Think nothing of it! You had us all worried, and we're happy you're doing alright," Nero responded.

"Who were those two, anyway?" Alistair asked. "One was… an old rival of mine, from a long time ago. Your opponent was simply another servant she befriended here. Not unlike our relationship. It was… important that I saw that fight through," Nero explained. "Thank you both for helping us though!" Hakuno added. Nero gave an affirmative nod. "Of course. We're a team after all," Atalanta replied. Alistair felt glad she had fully accepted them as comrades. He worried she might always be wary of them.

"With all that said, I think we're all worn out after tonight," Hakuno asserted. "Why don't we all get some rest for the time being and continue on tomorrow? We should be able to reach the central hub in a couple day's time." Everyone agreed. After tracking down Atalanta and fighting off two servants, everyone was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. They said their brief farewells, and the two groups returned to their lodgings.

Though he was genuinely tired, Alistair had trouble falling to sleep. He was worried about the days to come. About their inevitable final battle. But, there was one thing he feared and dreaded above all else. He rolled over and saw Atalanta, fast asleep. He stared idly at her face, and her peaceful expression, and felt his worries grow quieter. _How is it you always manage to put my mind at ease?_ he thought to himself. He smiled briefly, his sense of resolve reinforced, and drifted off to sleep himself.

Chapter IX

The air was thick and still as they entered the city. At last they had reached their final destination; the sprawling, nameless metropolis at the center of Seraph. Despite its significance in the Grand Holy Grail War, the city itself was unremarkable, save for its impressive scale. The vast labyrinthine streets wove intricate patterns between the monolithic buildings that made up the city's downtown. The chaotic orchestra of cars, music, and voices permeated seemingly every block. Neon signs buzzed carelessly over crowded shops. Vendors on street corners peddled their wares to mostly disinterested passersby. Dark alleys of brick and concrete contrasted the brightly illuminated streets, as the foul smell of exhaust, sewer gas, and random cigarettes juxtaposed the aroma of expensive perfumes and freshly baked foods that wafted from parlours and cafes. Indeed, the city housed some of the worst and best cultural affects the world below had to offer.

The group moved deliberately through the streets. Save for the consistently impressed Nero, who did her best to take in all the sights and sounds the city had to offer, they remained focused on their united goal. When they entered the City with No Name, the sun had just begun to rize over the skyline, yet, by the time they had reached their goal the sky was painted a vivid orange by the sunset. Their destination was difficult to miss; the colossal tower at the city center that dwarfed all surrounding it. Above it hung the Moon Cell Core, ever tantalizing in its seeming perfection.

When they arrived in the plaza below the tower, they found themselves surrounded by statues of the various gods and goddesses that had been attributed to the moon throughout history. The tower itself was not one to be occupied, but rather a massive black spire. It seemed to emit an endless flow of spiritrons, which poured from it in every direction. They were likely carried to the far ends of Seraph, where they became new territories. The tower itself bore the name "Apollo."

Standing at the base of the tower, everyone's nerves were frayed. This was it. This was to be their impossible final battle. The one which no master nor servant had completed. Before them sat a large elevator, likely inaccessible to anyone not participating in the grail war. Everyone agreed to take this opportunity to make their final preparations before their accent.

Nero and Hakuno went off to talk amongst themselves, while Atalanta offered prayer to the statue of Artemis. Though he did not share her same faith, Alistair recognized the significance of this, and stood by her silently. When she finished and stood up, Alistair said his piece; "Archer? There's something I need to say before we go on." She nodded affirmatively, "Of course. What is it?" "No matter what's waiting for us up there; no matter what comes of it, I… I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for letting me stand by your side. These last couple of months… the time I've spent with you… it's meant the world to me." She blushed slightly and smiled. She reached out, caressing his cheek, "That goes both ways, master." He felt himself blush back as she continued, "But there's no need for that talk. You said it yourself. We're going to make it through this. You promised, remember?" Alistair feigned confidence and smiled to her; "Yeah. Of course."

With nothing left to be said, the group reunited in front of the elevator. Having steeled themselves, they boarded and made their way up the obsidian monolith. When they neared the top, they saw the world from dizzying heights. The glimmering lights of the city stretched out for miles in each direction, before tapering off into the rolling hills and forests they had traversed to reach this point. Patches of snow mixed with verdant fields and the vast digital sea beyond to paint a vivid and breathtaking landscape, illuminated under the shimmering twilight. This was truly a sight meant for gods and heroes.

When they reached the top, however, the view was lost. The doors of the elevator opened to a vast, rocky field. Craters, shattered boulders, and scorch marks showed the long history carved into the face of this battlefield. The bright nights sky illuminated the rugged wasteland, made up of rocks of all colors. This, it seemed, was the Moon Cell's choice for the final battleground.

When they stepped through the doors of the elevator, a familiar figure stood before them. The grail's vessel, the emissary of the Moon Cell gave a warm smile, before greeting the weary travelers. "Please allow me to be the first to congratulate you for reaching the Moon Cell's core. I've no doubt you encountered any number perilous trials on your journey here. As a reward for your efforts, both masters shall be given an extra command seal. To the masters and servants before me now, well done. You have proven your determination and resiliency by reaching this point. However, one final trial awaits you to see if you are truly worthy of the grail."

The air was thick with tension as she explained what awaited them. "The Moon Cell shall summon the heroic spirits deemed most challenging for your servants to face in combat. By assessing their strengths, weaknesses, desires, and fears, the Moon Cell will determine who among the heroes of legend might prove a suitable opponent. Should you overcome this trial, you will have proven your compatibility as a team and capabilities as master and servant. There is glory in victory, but no shame in defeat. Masters; Hakuno Kishinami and Alistair Kokinos, servants; Nero Claudius and Atalanta, I wish you the best of luck." With those words, she vanished.

Alistair and Hakuno noted as the spare command seals appeared on their hands. "What the hell does she mean, 'most challenging heroic spirit'?" Alistair asked. Nero drew her blade and prepared herself before answering; "We shall soon find out!" In front of them, a summoning circle appeared on the ground. It shone brightly, before erupting into a burst of light. When the dust cleared, there stood an imposing man. Under the bright glow of the simulated moon, he stood, clad in black and gold armor. His olive skin was accented by his dark purple hair. His red irises burned with rage against his black scleras. He scanned the warriors that stood before him, until his eyes landed on Nero. He threw his fists back and let out a deafening howl, before launching himself at her. His fist landed against the flat of her blade as she defended against the savage strike. Nero attempted to speak out, "You…!" Before he sent both of them flying backwards. Hakuno shouted, "Damn it! Saber!" She quickly turned to Alistair and Atalanta, "Good luck, you two…!" before rushing off to help her servant.

"Shit!" Alistair growled between his teeth. Atalanta readied her bow, "Focus, master!" A second summoning circle appeared. The light and roar of the summoning burst forth, throwing up a screen of dust. When it cleared, their opponent stood clearly in front of them. He was a large man, dressed in multiple layers of dark robes. The pasty skin of his left arm was decorated with red markings, while his talloned right hand held a brown grimoire. His greasy hair sat unceremoniously over his hard face. His eyes opened, bulging violently to either side of his head, as he glared in frustration. "Ooooh, how utterly cruel! To have to kill someone so similar to myself!"

Atalanta nocked an arrow, drawing her bow, while Alistair stared daggers at their adversary. "Who're you supposed to be?!" he snarled. Caster looked back to him; "Oh? I've yet to unveil myself, and already I sense such animosity from you, young man. Very well, I shall introduce myself, though you interest me not. I am here on behalf of the fair maiden who accompanies you. I, Gilles de Rais, shall show you, dear archer, all the beautiful horrors your craven heart unwittingly desires!" Atalanta fired her arrow, striking him in the shoulder. He was unmoved as she challenged him; "What the hell are you talking about?!" He pulled the arrow out and met her glare, "Do you not enjoy torturing children, young lady?" "What?! I fight to protect children! So that they may be saved!"

Caster shook his head in indignation; "No, no, no! How cruel! What you do is beyond even the depths of my depravity! For you see, we are no different, you and I. We both torment children for our own selfish needs! And yet, what you do is so much worse! For me to maim and mutilate them, they are given the gift of hatred as their wretched souls depart this world. Forever they may curse me for my debauchery. But you! To plant the seeds of hope in their hearts, only to leave them to face the unending torment of this God-forsaken world! They are left with no one to blame as they are ripped to shreds! They know not that it was you who fed them such sweet lies! Who led them astray!" Atalanta snarled back, "Take your mad ramblings with you to hell, bastard!" She drew her bow across herself, losing a volley of arrows. All at once, the barrage hit Caster, who burst into a mist of blood. He reappeared, his body sliding forth from the surface of a nearby rock. He threw open his tome, and began an incantation. "Then allow me to show you the nature of the salvation you promise, foolish girl!"

A dark mist spewed forth from the book, blanketing the area in a purple miasma. As the fog settled on the ground, the field was covered by a scene of unimaginable horror. Dozens upon dozens, if not hundreds of children lay sprawled out, each mutilated or disfigured. Some missing body parts, some burned, some blown apart from the inside, all crying out in agony. Caster let loose a wailing laugh, "Behold your salvation! Each of these children was loved! Each cared for! And look what's become of them! All rendered helpless before me! Though you may not accept it yet, this is the truth of your vision!" He grabbed a one legged boy attempting to crawl away from him, lifting him off the ground. In one swift motion, Caster beheaded him.

The agonied cries of the helpless, lost souls that littered the field blended together into a hellish white-noise. Alistair fell to his knees in disgust. Atalanta clenched her fist and lowered her head. _It hurts. Please. Make it stop. Why? Please save me._ "...kill…" _I'm so cold. I can't feel my legs. Mommy? Stop. Please. Help me._ "kill you…" _Why does it hurt so much? Someone please. Make it stop. Why can't I get away? Why won't it end? I'm scared. What did I do to deserve this?_ Atalanta armed herself once again, her voice shaking as she screamed at Caster; "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!"

She fired an arrow at his heart. Caster swiftly grabbed a little girl from nearby, using her as a shield. As the arrow hit the child, she cried out, before her body horrifically melted in his hands. "Do you see, little ones?! See the horrible monster before you!" Simultaneously, all the children looked to Atalanta, their eyes wide with fear. "No! What are you saying?!" Some screamed. Others wept. They began to recoil in fear and disgust, as they crawled, limped, and ran away from her, into the embrace of Caster. "Stop! Please!" she cried out to them. Yet none listened. Enraged, she turned back to Caster. Once again, he picked up a nearby child and tore them apart, showering in the spray of blood. Atalanta desperately tried to stop him, shooting another arrow at him. This time, one of the children ran into the arrow's path, shielding Caster. They continued to run into his arms as he continued his vulgar slaughter. Atalanta fired again, with the same result. Another shot, another sacrifice. Her legs shook as she tried to walk forward. She dropped her bow to the ground, and fell to her knees. Her eyes were wide in horror, as she gripped her head, and bent over. All she could muster at this point was a whimper. "Please… stop… I… I can't… Please…" Ignoring her pleas, Caster continued his butchery.

Alistair's mind raced, as he gripped his stomach in disgust. There had to be something he could do. Some way to stop this horror. He looked on in revulsion, trying to put together some sort of plan. As he watched, however, he noticed something; there were no children where there was no fog. They seemed to mindlessly follow Casters commands, and none of them seemed aware of Alistair's presence. He scanned the crowd before him, his eyes landing on a small boy standing by himself. Alistair focused on this straggler. The boy stood still, staring blankly forward. It was then that Alistair noticed; there was miasma emanating from the boy. He focused harder, sensing a massive amount of mana stored within the boy. No human being should be able to generate as much mana all at once, let alone a child. He looked across the field. There was a clear effort to obscure it, but he could sense the same effect coming from each of the children. It was all some sort of illusion! Those were not the lost souls of dead children, but creatures elaborately disguised by Caster. He had to let Atalanta know.

"Archer!" Alistair shouted. He looked out and saw her. She sat still, balled up on the ground shaking. "Archer, listen, this isn't real!" No response. He began to run toward her, but found himself cut off by the fog, which burned his skin wherever it made contact. "ARCHER!" he cried out. His words had no effect on her. She was in shock, and it was clear this display had traumatized her deeply. There was nothing he could say that would reach her now. "Damn it!" Alistair held out his left hand; "By my command spell, I order you to listen to me!"

As she lay on the ground, defeated, Atalanta suddenly felt a shock. In an instant, the unending cries and screams of the children that ebbed away at her sanity ceased. The sounds of tearing flesh and splintering bones coming from Caster fell silent. For a moment, she heard only her own ragged breathing, before the words of her master reached her; "Archer! Pull yourself together! None of this is real!" She looked up, her gaze meeting Alistair's. "M-Master...?" "Finally! Listen to me, this is all an illusion!" She was still in disbelief; "What…? What do you-?" she asked weakly. "I don't know how, but none of those are children! They're all creatures Caster summoned and disguised. Each one of them is a veritable mana generator." She shakily rose to her feet, "B-but… they're…" "Listen to my voice and trust me! Do you honestly believe anything this maniac says?! You can sense it too, right?!" Atalanta closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. As she collected herself, she began to sense the overwhelming amount of mana covering the field. She opened her eyes, and picked up her bow. She looked to Alistair resolutely; "You're right. I can't believe I fell for this monster's tricks. Thank you, master. I can fight without any reservations now."

Caster had lost himself in the sick pleasure he derived from the violence. As he pierced another fake child through the heart, he was caught off guard by an explosive arrow blasting into him. His arms now burned, he snapped from his self induced trance, glaring at Atalanta, who readied another shot. "Oooooooooh! If I cannot convince you through my words or deeds, there is no hope for me to reach you! All that's left for me to do is tear you apart!" He held out his spellbook, releasing the illusion he had cast. Suddenly, the remaining children burst, while parts of the discarded gore merged back together. As the viscera combined, it left the field covered in a series of eldritch horrors. The tentacled creatures were lined with teeth and eyes, all animating in an uncanny manner as they slunk about, readying themselves for battle.

Atalanta was unfazed. "Die you sick bastard!" She fired a series of arrows which exploded across the battlefield, mangling the creatures. Caster hid himself as several of the monsters lunged toward Atalanta. She shot one while dodging another. Launching herself upward, she fired downward, taking out five in one fell swoop. One shot itself upward, grabbing onto her ankle. She swiftly shot an arrow into its core, causing it to explode. She landed atop a nearby boulder, kicking off the tentacle which clung to her foot.

With great ease and grace, she moved about the battlefield, dispatching droves of the monsters. It was clear this was no challenge for her. She continued her elegant assault for minutes on end, wiping out dozens of creatures. As she cut through the hordes, she and Alistair both scanned for Caster, who had expertly hidden himself among the masses of abominations that littered the field. At last, landing upon a clearing after having dispatched a seemingly limitless number of monsters, Atalanta yelled out; "Come out and fight you godless coward!" Answering her call, Caster appeared across the field, "Very well then! I shall show you the horrors of my faithful devotion to artistic endeavours firsthand!"

Atalanta fired at him as the most remaining monsters suddenly dogpiled Caster. Their bodies began merging together into one single mass, which built up higher as it let off a frightful amount of mana. Atalanta's shots landed against the beast, causing minor damage before being absorbed by the growing horror. At its height, the monster stood almost three stories tall, its massive tentacles thrashing about. Caster let out a violent laugh as the horrific creature roared. The vile entity began inching forward, its palpable rage surging frightfully as it let off a copious amount of miasma.

Atalanta growled, rushing the beast and firing off a bevy of arrows. They slammed into the monster from all angles, exploding upon contact. Despite the extensive damage to its exterior, the titanic abomination was unfazed, its massive tentacles lashing out. Atalanta leapt up, dodging one, only to fly directly into the path of another. It crashed into her, sending her careening backwards into a boulder, which exploded as her body slammed into it. As the monsters wounds quickly healed, the number of smaller horrors surrounding it began their own assault, writhing violently before lunging at the injured Archer. Shaking off her wounds, she quickly dispatched her assailants, before redirecting her assault toward the hulking behemoth. Again and again she assaulted the monster, each time being swatted away by its violent counter-attacks, her injuries mounting.

By this point, Atalanta was well aware she wouldn't be able to defeat this monster, yet she continued her desperate assault. She wouldn't allow herself to be beaten by someone like Caster. Alistair too knew the futility of her attacks. He clenched his fist and hung his head, filled with a grim resolution. He knew what had to be done. Alistair raised a barrier around himself, and called out, "Archer, to me!" Atalanta heard his summons, and rushed to his side. "What is it master?! Do you have any idea how to kill this thing?!" He nodded. "I do. But first, I need to know something. Powered up by a command spell, how much damage do you think your noble phantasm could do?" Atalanta shook her head, "Mine is an anti-army noble phantasm. Even powered up, it wouldn't be enough. I could clear out most of the smaller ones, and probably destroy half of the big one's body, but given its regenerative abilities, it would just grow back in a matter of moments!" Alistair nodded to her, "Don't worry. That'd be enough. Her eyes widened with fear, "Wait, what're you going to do?!" He looked to her with a grim determination in his eyes, "Don't worry. I know how to finish this." "No, master! You can't use that noble phantasm! I won't let you!" He met her concerned gaze, shooting her a bittersweet smile; "Atalanta… I have a plan. I don't know if it'll work, but it's all I can do. But I can't do it without you. So please… trust me." She bit her lip and clenched her fist. "I…" She closed her eyes for a moment. "Alright… but if you die, I'm going to drag you back from the afterlife so I can kill you myself!" She let out a sudden gasp as Alistair quickly embraced her. "Thank you… Atalanta." He felt her tremble with fear. "Master…!" He broke the hug, looking her dead in the eye, "Now go! Let's finish this!"

Atalanta gave a reluctant nod, leaping away to the top of an elevated boulder nearby. Alistair began to channel his mana as quickly as he could. He held his left hand skyward, calling out; "By my command spell, Archer, I order you, use your noble phantasm to destroy Caster!" She summoned two arrows, nocked them, and aimed them toward the starry night sky. "To the twin gods, Artemis and Apollo, I beseech thee, grant ruin upon this vile creature!" She fired her arrows, which spiralled brilliantly into the heavens. "Phoebus Catastrophe!" All at once, a divine rain pelted the earth. Rocks split and the ground shook as shot after shot slammed down. Monsters evaporated as they were scuttled by the fire. The gargantuan beast that housed Caster was hit by round after round of divine arrows. For nearly a minute, layer after layer of the monster were carved off by the spectacular display of heavenly might. When the blasting stopped, a little over half of the beast had been destroyed. With its top half blown off, Caster's body was exposed. He glared at the exhausted Atalanta, screaming incoherently with rage.

When her attack finished, Alistair was ready. In his left hand, he held a bright red bow, in his right, a shining arrow. He nocked the arrow, and drew it, aiming for the blood crazed Caster. "Your vile actions are inexcusable, but none of that matters to me," Alistair said. "You hurt someone dear to me, and that, I will never forgive!" He lowered his stance, focusing on his target. "Die you sick bastard! STELLA!" Alistair loosed the arrow, which flew forward brilliantly, parting the sea of gore as it went. It crashed into the exposed Caster, exploding. Light surged outward, growing into a brilliant pillar that shone up to the heavens. The earth quaked and the clouds were burned away as the incredible heat surged from the blast. Caster rejoiced, at what he believed was his deserted divine punishment. In a matter of moments, he and his monster were burned away by the incredible attack. With its energy spent, the starlike pillar of light disappeared, leaving only a crater in the earth where it stood. All that remained of the wicked Caster were a series of bloodstains from the creatures he summoned. At last, their battle had ended.

Alistair fell to the ground, as an otherworldly pain surged through his body. "Master!" Atalanta cried out, rushing to his side. Alistair grunted loudly, as he laboriously rose to his knees. Cracks covered the entirety of the right side of his body, resembling shattering glass. Blood ran from some of the cracks. Atalanta gripped his shoulder, helping him to his feet. "Damn it…" he sighed. "I used a command spell to reinforce my body. I really hoped it would stop the damage… but it looks like this is the best it could do…" Atalanta, her voice shaking with anger and sadness, replied, "You idiot…!"

Several hundred feet behind them, a massive explosion signaled the end of Nero and Hakuno's fight. Atalanta and Alistair hobbled over to see what had happened. They found an injured and exhausted Nero sitting on a rock, with Hakuno at her side. "Hey!" Alistair grunted through the pain, "You guys… made it too!" Nero answered first, "Indeed… it was a difficult battle, to be sure. I couldn't have won without my dear praetor by my side." Hakuno looked to the bleeding Alistair, "My God! What happened to you?!" Alistair give a little laugh; "What, this? Aw, it's nothing…" He laughed again, being interrupted by harsh coughing. "Shut up!" Atalanta cut in, "You have no idea how bad the damage might be!" "Damn it, you used that noble phantasm, didn't you?!" Nero interjected. "Yeah… didn't have much choice…"

As everyone looked to Alistair in concern, two golden elevators descended from the sky above. "We need to get you medical care!" Hakuno said. The others tacitly agreed. "Hey… don't worry about me…" Alistair responded. He gestured to one of the elevators, "Besides, your ride's here." "But you-!" Nero said before he cut her off, "Please… You've got a wish that needs granting, don't you… Sovereign of Seraph?" Nero and Hakuno exchanged concerned glances. "Damn it," Nero answered, "Very well… but you're getting an earful the next time we see you!" Alistair chuckled, "I'll count on it." Hakuno and Nero boarded their elevator, exchanging a concerned and accepting nod with Alistair and Atalanta. Leaning on her, Alistair and Atalanta too entered theirs, and ascended to the grail. To the end of their journey.

As they rode up, Alistair surveyed the battlefield below. He wondered how many had died trying to get to where he was now. How many dreams had been sacrificed. How many masters had lost their servants and vica versa. He began to wonder why they were the first. As he began to doubt himself, however, his train of thought was interrupted. "Master…" Atalanta spoke softly, "why would you put yourself through such pain?" He gave her a confident smile; "The same reason as you… I have a dream I want to see fulfilled. Someone I want to save. It's the first time I've ever had anything I was willing to risk my life over… And besides, I made you a promise, remember? I said I'd get you through this, and I'll be damned if I break my word to you." Atalanta protested, "No… you said _we'd_ get through this…!" A silence hung over them for a moment. Quietly, Alistair answered, "...So I did…" The elevator reached its destination, and the doors opened.

They stepped out into a place familiar to Alistair; a verdant field, covered in flowers, beneath an endless blue sky. They had finally reached Heaven's Feel, the core of the Moon Cell. The grail's vessel stood before them, her elegant white dress flowing in the cool breeze. She smiled, before once again greeting them, "Well met, champions. I am truly impressed. Along with your compatriots, you two are the first to reach the grail. You have proven your worthiness of the Moon Cell's blessing. Master Alistair, you are hereby named one of the three Sovereigns of Seraph. In recognition of your achievements and prowess, your wish may be granted by the Holy Grail. What is it you desire?"

Alistair took his weight off Atalanta, and sat on one of the crystalline rocks. "Tell me, is it possible to use the grail's power to create an institution? By influencing people's' wills?" Atalanta looked at him in confusion as the vessel answered; "Depending on what you have in mind, yes. It should be possible to use the Third Magic in such a way." "Good…" The pain in his body had become far beyond excruciating. Alistair committed all of his strength to remaining present, so that he could see this to the very end. "Then I want the grail to forcefully establish the construction and management of of a world-spanning project… headed and overseen by the Mage's Association."

The grail's vessel nodded, "Very well. Please explain in greater detail what you'd like to see done." "My wish, is to see the building of a series of orphanages across the world. From urban cities, to rural villages… peaceful communities, to warzones. I want them to be staffed by homunculi, specifically designed for child care… so that the children may live and learn in a safe environment…" "This shall be done, but I should warn you; mages are notorious for their lack of empathy. It is likely that some would use these orphanages for their own advancement." Alistair nodded, "I understand. Then please, have the governing body of the Mages Association establish a rule, that if any mage should dare to interfere or harm the children, their magical circuits would be forfeit and removed… That should be enough to scare any interlopers off…" "Very well. There is one last matter," she responded. "What is it?" "What shall these orphanages be named?" Alistair thought for a moment before answering, "Call them… Arcadia."

Having all the information she needed, the grails vessel spoke; "Excellent. The Third Magic shall hereby begin working to manifest your wish." Alistair smiled upon hearing this. "That's… good… to hear…" His strength was fading quickly. Unable to even hold himself up any longer, he rolled off his seat, hitting the ground and landing on his back. "Master!" Atalanta swiftly moved to his side. She took a knee, and held his body up in her arms. "I don't understand!" she cried out. "What are you doing?!" Alistair smiled warmly at her, "Just… seeing my wish through… It's impossible… to save everyone… So I tried to save as many as I could…"

Still unable to understand his motivation, Atalanta pressed further, "But what the things you told me?! What about the person you wanted to save?!" Alistair gave a slight chuckle; "I'll… let you… be the judge of that…" "Wha-?!" Suddenly it all clicked in her head. What he had meant, all along. What his wish really was. Tears began rolling down her cheeks. "Why?! Why would you-?!" "Atalanta… when we first met, you asked me a question… one I couldn't answer. Now I want to return that question to you." She saw the honesty in his weary gaze and nodded. "What is it?" "Was I… a worthy master?" She wrapped her arms around his frail body and held him as tightly as she could. "Yes, of course! Better than I ever could have wished for…!"

As she lowered him back down, Alistair beamed at her, tears running down the side of his head. "I'm so happy… to hear you say that!" For a moment, they said nothing, a bittersweet dread filling their hearts. "In truth…" Alistair spoke, "We're not so different… I too dreamt of something impossible…" "What do you mean?" "All I really wanted… was to stay by your side forever… but I knew… there would come a time when we would have to part…"

Alistair's body was breaking down. It grew difficult for him even to keep his eyes open. With the last of his strength, he spoke gently to Atalanta. "I want you to know… that the last few weeks I've spent with you… were some of the best moments of my life… Even if I remember this as little more than an ephemeral dream… I'm so happy I got to know you, and… more than anything…" He lifted up his left hand, caressing her cheek. With his thumb, he wiped away the tear that fell from the corner of her eye. His heart ached bittersweet, and he smiled through the pain. "I love you." Gently, Alistair shut his eyes, and the world faded to white.

Epilogue

For a time, there was nothing. A surreal quiet. It was peaceful and serene, but lonely. He first felt a warmth. Rather he felt two warmths, one within, and one without. They were disconnected from one another, and couldn't seem to make contact. With nothing else, he focused on the warmth. Gradually, the world began to pour back in. He became aware of his body. His mind began to form trains of thought. He could tell he was lying down. There was something over him, and something under his head. He heard the sounds of birds singing. He felt a cool breeze tickle his face. He could feel his regular breathing, and the beating of his heart. At last, the two feelings of warmth came into contact, and he became whole again. He opened his eyes to the bright light of the morning sun.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw Atalanta's face above him, gazing off into the horizon. "What…? Where…?" he stammered, half awake. She looked down to him, smiling tenderly; "Ah. I see you're finally awake, master Alistair." Confused, he came out of his daze, and realized where he was. They sat on a terrace. His body was covered in a blanket, and his head rested on her lap. "H-how is this possible?" he asked. Letting out a little chuckle, Atalanta responded. "It seems you've forgotten. As long as they are present, a servant's wish is granted as well." Still in disbelief, Alistair replied; "You… you saved my life… with the grail…" She smiled, teasingly, "Well… I guess that makes us even." Finally, the miraculous nature of his situation sunk in. Alistair began to laugh, as joyful tears rolled down his face. "You… you really-" Atalanta placed a finger to his lips and shushed him. "Now, now. You've been asleep for the last couple days. You shouldn't work yourself up too much."

Alistair basked in the comfort of being together once more. "Thank you… thank you so much…" Atalanta ran her fingers through his hair, "Think nothing of it. It is a servant's duty to protect their master, after all." "I'm sorry… to have put you through all that." She gave a smirk, "Hmm. I suppose I can forgive you… if you make it up to me." "What'd you have in mind?" "You shall stay by my side, and accompany me from this day forth. Sound reasonable?" Alistair laughed and answered her, "Yeah… I'll see what I can do."

"Now then, since you're awake," Atalanta announced, "on to other business. As you know, you are hereby one of the three acting Sovereigns of Seraph. You have been given royal authority. This entails providing information to the Moon Cell, ruling over part of its citizenry, and defending it from external invasion, should the need arise. You have system access to the Moon Cell Core, and have been granted several retainers, who, in the case of a conflict, will answer to me." She paused for a moment, before continuing on. "In truth… I'm not sure how I feel about being in charge. It's… not really something I've done before. What about you, master?" Alistair smiled at her confidently; "Well, we made it this far. I'm sure we'll do fine." She chuckled, "It's reassuring to hear you say that. As you can see, I've taken the liberty of building us a capital."

Alistair turned his head to the side to look off the balcony. He was surprised to see the large settlement standing before him. It had all the makings of a modern city; skyscrapers, highways, factories, and a bustling port. At the same time, it was mixed with older buildings of wood and white stucco, as well as a number of large temples and agoras. It sat along a sweeping white coast at the edge of a vast blue sea. Lining the landscape were a number of rolling hills and cliffs, topped with green, orange, and pink trees, blooming vividly in the springtime sun. Rivers and streams meandered through the hills, and wildlife flourished. Beyond, vast golden fields grew crops and raised livestock. The breathtaking view looked like something from a Greek epic, clearly built and shaped by Atalanta's vision and memories of what an ideal capitol looked like. Indeed, this marvelous version of Arcadia would have put even the great Athens to shame.

Alistair also noted their current location. They sat on the second story balcony of a humble but regal Greek-style manor. The exterior of their two-story home was made of granite, supported by large, iconic pillars. It stood atop a small hill near the center of town, overlooking the sprawling city below, and the sea that ran aside it. The first floor consisted of a parlour, which opened to large throne room. Behind it, a more normal floor plan; a kitchen, dining room, and living room. The second floor housed a master bedroom and bathroom, several guest rooms, and a spa; an unusually lavish feature for Atalanta. It was likely Nero had met her and insisted she needed one. Before the house stood two staggering trees, and behind, a small garden and archery range. The small yet regal home would be perfect for two humble rulers.

Alistair sat up and answered Atalanta; "This is incredible! You're saying you built all this in a matter of days?" Atalanta blushed and scratched her cheek. "Well the Moon Cell built it. I just provided the template." "Even so, this is amazing." "Well… thank you." Atalanta cleared her throat. "Anyway, Hakuno and Emperor Nero have built their capital Rome nearby. We can meet with them and our retainers in the coming days." She adjusted herself in her seat before continuing. "There's one last thing. Regarding your… confession to me. I believe it would only be fair if I issued to you the same challenge I gave to all my suitors; if you can beat me in a race, my hand and my heart are yours." Alistair was somewhat surprised to hear this. "If that's what you want, then I'll go along," he replied. He recalled that those who lost to her were killed, and wondered what fate awaited him should he lose. "Excellent," Atalanta responded, "We shall hold the race in a few days, once you've finished recovering. Don't disappoint me, master." There was a hint of playfulness in her tone.

They sat in silence for a time, taking in the view and enjoying the cool spring air. Alistair felt a familiar warmth in his chest. His fondness for Atalanta mixed with the joy he felt toward his miraculous recovery, and the kindness she had shown him. He turned to her in earnest. "Atalanta… thank you, again… for everything." She smiled and blushed slightly. "Please, save it for if you can beat me, dear Alistair." He chuckled, "Very well." After a time, Atalanta spoke again. "It seems… we will have plenty of time to enjoy this hard-earned peace. That's as much thanks to you as it is to me."

Later that day, they met with their three retainers. One was lackluster but loyal archer dressed in green. An honest thief by the name of Robin Hood. The next was a chipper, outgoing, and impossible to manage rider. With an infectious smile on his face, they often found Astolfo running around and getting into trouble with a jovial sense of wonder. Lastly, a familiar face; Ushiwakamaru, the rider they defeated during the war, was more than happy to fight for the sake of the warrior who bested her. Even in the absence of conflict, the five of them often spent time together, enjoying one another's company and diverse personalities.

Atalanta and Alistair would often meet with Hakuno and Nero, both to discuss policy and reminisce over their shared journey. Contrasted by the relatively austere lifestyle they led, the extravagant parades, festivals, and parties Nero held were always a welcome diversion. Indeed, the decadence exuded by Nero was enough even to impress Marie Antoinette, who was, ironically, often in attendance at these events. The strong friendship and history between the two Sovereigns ensured that peace would thrive on Seraph for a long time to come. Strangely enough, shortly after Alistair and Hakuno's ascensions to power, news came that a third master had reached the Moon Cell Core, marking the end of the long Grand Holy Grail War. Curiously, rumor had it the third Sovereign was a young man who also went by the name Hakuno Kishinami, with his servant, a foxy caster class servant dressed in blue. It would be some time before anyone managed to make contact with them, however.

Other than that, Alistair and Atalanta spent their days enjoying the hard earned peace. They often explored the new territories that cropped up around Seraph. They spent a great deal of time mingling with the citizens of their kingdom, experiencing the diverse pleasures their thriving capital of Arcadia had to offer. Oddly enough, a branch of Arcadia Orphanage existed within their city, housing many young NPCs and some human children who had somehow made their way to seraph. It even played host to some young, lost servants, summoned by the Moon Cell for one reason or another. Needless to say, Atalanta and Alistair spent plenty of time there, helping the staff and playing with the children. In a way, it became a large extended family for the two of them, and they couldn't have been happier. The days were long and lighthearted, the nights warm and peaceful. Indeed, under the three great kingdoms, Seraph became a paradise on which the sun would never set.

A couple of days after Alistair awoke, he and Atalanta readied for their promised race. They would run a three mile course through the forest. The first to claim the red ribbon tied around a tree branch at the end would be declared the winner. Unbeknownst to Alistair, the race would become a sort of event for their friends to spectate. Their three retainers, as well as Nero and Hakuno, came to the starting line to cheer the two competitors on. Nero, a known lover of competitions of all sorts, acted as the race official, going so far as to don an athletic get-up and bring a small pistol to mark the start of the race.

Under the warm afternoon sun, Alistair and Atalanta readied themselves at the starting line. Nero stood off to the side, and, with a goofy grin on her face, started the race. "On your marks! Get set! Goooo!" She fired a shot into the air, and the two were off. Both launched from the starting line as quickly as they could. Atalanta shot forward with supernatural speed, leaping into the tree branches and darting from one to the next. _And just how the hell am I supposed to keep up with that?!_ Alistair thought to himself, exacerbated.

Undeterred by the impossibility of his situation, Alistair charged forth. Given that his lifestyle as a mage meant more time spent researching than exercising, he found the race to be tiring, but he refused to let that slow him. He couldn't afford to screw up. After all, this was probably the most important competition he'd ever be a part of. No way was he going to half-ass this. He sprinted through clearings, hurdled over thick roots, and waded through rivers. Using mana to reinforce his speed, he even surprised himself by the time he was making. Atalanta, however, was still nowhere in sight.

Exhausted, but determined, Alistair made his way up the last hill on the course. Atop it stood a large, old tree, marking the race's finish line. He walked up to it and examined it. To his utter disbelief, he saw the ribbon hanging from a low branch, flapping carelessly in the breeze. Alistair looked around and scratched the back of his head in confusion. There was no way he could have possibly beat Atalanta here. Not at the speed she was going. He cautiously approached, gently tugging on the ribbon to assure himself this wasn't some sort of illusion. He pulled it from the tree and examined it for a moment, before tying it around his wrist. Once more, he looked around him, and saw no one.

As he was about to head back, Alistair heard a voice call out, nonchalantly. "Oh!" He walked around to the side of the hill to see what was going on. There, he saw Atalanta sitting at the base of a tree, an apple in her hand. She smiled at him calmly. "Umm… What's going on?" Alistair asked, confused. She picked up another apple from the ground and tossed it to him. "Hmm, it seems, by the look of things, that you've beaten me in the race." She pat the ground beside her, beckoning Alistair to take a seat. He obliged, trying to get in a question as he approached. "What-?" "You see, just as I neared the finish, I spotted this beautiful apple tree," she said, pointing up, "and I simply couldn't help but investigate it. It seems in my distraction, I forgot completely about the race, and so I lost." Alistair sat next to her, smiling slyly. "You planned this all-?" "And since you beat me fairly, I have no choice but to accept your love."

She smiled warmly and rested her head on his shoulder. "From this day forth, I am yours in body and soul, my dearest Alistair." Doing his best to contain his glee, Alistair simply placed his head against hers as they took in the view together. They would spend the rest of the day there, overlooking the whole of Arcadia. At long last, they had each found what they were looking for. Alistair, who had spent most of his life traveling with his family studying magecraft, and Atalanta, who had spent ages fighting, dying, and searching as a heroic spirit; both knew little comfort. But, in each other, they found something they had lacked for so long. At last, they had found home. And so together they lived, in a heavenly kingdom on the moon, built upon the realization of two impossible dreams.

Their worlds were as one, and nothing was left unsaid. Well… save for one thing. As they sat there together, under the calm afternoon sun, Atalanta shifted and looked to Alistair. "And, master…?" He looked to her, letting out a "Hmm?" before she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him deeply. Caught off guard, Alistair was surprised at first, but he relented and fell into her arms. Together, they held each other, their hearts beating as one. For all the miraculous beauty around them, nothing else mattered. In that moment, they were the only two things in the world. When they finally broke their kiss, she looked into his eyes tenderly, and spoke gently, from the heart; "I love you, too."

The End


End file.
